Security
Hard raging borean bearing wind,
Lashing down on the cowering town.
Leaves and litter, sky chucked and
Chased in spirals and soars,
Catching on clutching hedges
And fences, as the gale rails, drawing
The hail that beats on a thousand doors.
Snug inside the pillowed child sighs.
Nature's roar, to him no more than
The raging theme to peace filled dreams.
Copyright © Mark Priestley | Year Posted 2018
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