Storm Over the Glens
The sky grew darkened as the day neared it's end
Clouds of black cloak the glens, impending in their send
Drops of rain on the rooftop now fall, it's like music to our favorite song
I glance over seeing you stoking the fire, lightening throw shadows like they belong
My hand cradles a glass of chilled wine, sitting next to my darling man
Whilst the howling winds tempt the trees to a dance, as if it all was planned
In our highland cottage so warm, the storm rages on, as we lie in blanketed clutch
Tomorrow the glens will be calm and serene as I am awoken by your touch
Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2010
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