Owen Cullimore Poet Rhyme

The Wind

The wind whistles over the mountains
Across the valley below
Just to let you know it’s there
And to say hello
The chill it brings makes the air go cold
You shiver and shake just to keep warm
It can also bring inclement weather 
Hailstones, Rain or Snow
As it howls out its fearful call
Animals run for cover
To find a nice sheltered place
To huddle against one another
Darkened clouds form overhead
You know a storm is brewing soon
As darkness descends you tend to forget
Its only early afternoon
The Trees and Flowers will welcome
The storm that is about to commence
But an Owl contemplates his next move
As he sits upon a fence
The nearby wood seems to be
His refuge throughout the coming storm
So off he flies to sit and wait
Till all returns to norm
The Deer are all running wildly
Frightened at what is about to occur
As other creatures run and hide
Suddenly everything’s a blur
As the Wind and Rain starts to pour down
With Hailstones, Snow and Rain
The Valley becomes a desolate place
Until better weather returns again
Shortly all is quiet
As the storms desist and leave
But leaving behind such devastation
Such a sight is hard to believe.

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