Spring Storm
The wind sounds like a wild run away train,
and my garden is taking a beating;
the birds hide, as today birds cannot glide,
the whole odd scene is bizarre and insane.
Wind howls and roars through sad complaining trees,
and is pouring in sheets of endless rain;
garden decorations spin in circles,
many are feeling the power and strain.
Moments of relief- seldom and fleeting,
as today birds cannot glide, the birds hide;
and when I think ended- it starts again.
__________________________
April 30, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/Spring Storm
Copyright Protected, ID 04-1350-635-30-
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, A New Abracadabra
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 06/01/2021
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2021
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