The Storm
I BUTTON THE SHUTTERS HIGH AND LOW,
AS HIGH STRONG WINDS BEGIN TO BLOW.
A NIGHT OF TERROR BEFORE MY EYES,
AS DARK GRAY CLOUDS HAVE FILLED THE SKIES
I MAKE READY THE FIREPLACE TO PROVIDE SOME HEAT.
TO WARM THE HOUSE AND MY FEET.
I TAKE TO MY CHAIR WITH AN UNCORKED BRANDY.
MY RAINCOAT AND BOOTS STAND BY HANDY.
LIGHTNING STRIKES AS THE CLOCK STRIKES TEN.
A NIGHT OF HORROR HAS YET TO END.
I READ MY NOVEL TO PASS THE NIGHT.
THIS STORM SHOULD SUBSIDE BY MORNING LIGHT.
POURING RAIN KNOCKS AT THE DOOR.
A DRAFT CREEPS IN AROUND THE FLOOR.
FULL FIERCE WINDS NOW PREVAIL
AND BRING WITH THEM BALLS OF HAIL.
SWIRLING WINDS RIP THE SHUTTER FREE.
A DEADLY STORM IN PURSUIT OF ME.
THUNDEROUS ROARS COME AND GO.
A FULL MOON LIT WITH A STRANGE DARK GLOW.
HOWLING WINDS RATTLE THE GLASS.
ICE COLD RAINS WATER THE GRASS.
AT 4 AM I POUR A BRANDY.
I GRAB MY FLASHLIGHT I KEEP HANDY.
I CHECK THE HOUSE FOR SUDDEN LEAKS.
THIS WICKED STORM HAS REACHED IT'S PEAK.
OUTSIDE THE WINDOW A NICE SURPRISE.
ON THE HORIZON A NEW SUNRISE.
LIGHTS ARE OUT, THROUGHOUT THE TOWN.
CLEARING SKIES SEEM INBOUND.
THIS WICKED STORM LOOKS TO PASS.
BUT NOT BEFORE LEAVING A TREE ON MY GRASS.
ONE MORE BRANDY I SHALL POUR.
BEFORE I OPEN MY FRONT DOOR.
NOW THAT THE STORM HAS GONE AWAY.
I'LL ASSESS THE DAMAGE THROUGHOUT THE DAY.
Copyright © Michael E. Harris | Year Posted 2016
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