Brush of the Winter Sweep(A Fictional Poem)

Take my hand and you will be lead out of the storm that currently is engulfing the northeast section of the county Driven winds,hurricane screams,white-out darkness,mid-december creams us with 3 inches per hour of the nasty powder fallen down from the Christmas sky New England is socked in for the next week or so and we're not so sure whether the electricity will be out on us for the duration But I am Here To lead you away from the sin of last week and yesterday.Just reach out your tiny but fragile hands so my good strong ones can take you far from the Winter blaster to a sunny place of palm trees,California sun,Friendly sun worshippers,and more.We will walk through the 1000 mazes that surrounds our township this holiday month,my friend.The automobiles,squeaky wheels,motorcycle bikes and snow sleds are useless this very night.But, as I said,sometime before,I AM HERE to lead you away from the harsh no'easter that is in front of our door. The light is from the squall of the night only.It is our only means of travelling through the Berkshire screams.Chilly frost,dripping down our cold numbing heads and hats,scarfs,that is our only protection from the weather fowl.We will make it through the ice,snow-covered streets of clear crystal sheets.The sweep of the storm's fury brush is trying to derail us from finding the clear corridor toward PARADISE sunlight and the blue sky o'er and beyond. My name is Isiah and I come to take my friend as well as many of you true believers to the promised beauty that HE has shown to me,1 week prior,to the predicted "Storm of All Seasons"which has now come to fruition.There is an EXIT sign..hanging on a white Line of the most perpetual vine.Trust in me to see you through,the World encased in Ice blankets,too.The dawn is around the bend.Have patience for just a few more clicks of the time clock that ticks And after that The Storm will be Forever NO MORE