The Storm
As I sit in my rocking chair,
I must have fallen asleep.
My bay window shows effects
of the dark night, thick black clouds,
no moon to shimmer over the far sea.
Occasionally flashes of lightning
lit the panorama in front of me.
I was confused wondering
if I was dreaming. For truly
outside was a storm brewing.
Suddenly rain fell, hitting the panes
of my lovely bay window.
I love the rhythm of the falling rain.
Behind me, the fire crackled
Sending its heat to warm me.
No this was not a dream as I heard
The sound of footsteps coming
Up the stairs. My wife was late.
Some emergency at the hospital no doubt.
She bent low and kissed my forehead.
I realized she was drenched in the rain.
I urged her to have a hot shower.
"Only if you wash my back," she laughed.
I needed no second invitation.
And let me assure you, my friends.
This was not a dream.
Fiction
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