Gmail - Poetry submission
It's a threatening, grey, winter's day,
There's that leaking, window pane,
The gale is screaming,on its way,
And flinging, sheets of rain,
The leaves, fly out of sight,
There's not one bird, seen, or heard,
Contesting, Nature's might.
Waves race, before the storm,
While we just stay , & scan the scene,
And thank God, we're dry & warm.
And those , upon the sea,
We trust good fortune's guided them,
To some place, of great safety.
Loud thunder's, close behind,
How near that last strike must have been,
Engages, every mind.
With the chaos, seen this day,
The call is there, for care, & Prayer,
Till this storm, is on its away.
1 comment:
Beautiful poem.
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