Stormy Storm

Wind blowing very fast Don't know how much it will last Raining very hard Its raising. Stopping is very hard. Ball swinging in the direction of the wind Screaming in it with wind Dead plants stands upright to salute Trees bows down towards the flying flute. A Bird holds her next tightly In the storm that blows dangerously I stand in between To think in. After the storm was o'er The leaves were painted green all o'er It then brings a very beautiful scenery And so birds starts chirping beautifully. Now no more flies the flute No more dead plants salute Now no more the Bird holds her next tightly No more the trees bows down so easily. Poet - Surjendra Das (Pen Name - Rudyard Jostle).