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Poem

The wind persisted in blowing me about,
whipping the willow branches with its beat.
It continuously raged, a tempest storm,
a force of nature that never bows in defeat.

Now, its companion has soaked me through
Rain has chilled me right down to the bone.
It's brought weapons of hail, the size of plums,
pummeling me as if it were throwing stones.

My tears have mingled with drops of cold rain.
Gale force winds have taken me to my knees.
It sounds as if it's screaming my name...
I reply, "Release me from your throes, please."

If wind and rain could screech in laughter,
I'd swear I heard them cackling like witches.
My thoughts were scattered; I was filled with fear,
as wind hurled hail stones with well-aimed pitches.

I had no strength in me to fight nature's opponents.
Combined in combat, they held far too much power.
No longer could I hold either of them at bay,
I cringed and withered as if I were a wilting flower.

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