The Wind

The seemingly endless night roared outside the bedroom window.
I drank my cup of tea, sat alone in the rocker where you used to go.
Now, it was a cold night, and I shivered tight, alone was I
but I just rocked in my chair, I rocked on by.
As the night roared, Wind soared outside the bedroom window.

I took onestep to the left of the chair and to my despair, oh how unfair -
the floorboard shrieked, it creaked, my foot sunk down to no where.
And my foot would not budge and my body trudged behind - trapped!
And the wind, He laughed knocking on the window, seeping through a crack.
He was an icy cold breeze, left me chilled, he did not care.

He sang in tenor, the star of his very own show.
Full of power and might, he was a strong, strong blow.
And I steadied my feet, though trapped I was not wry.
I was so cold, he had me wailing Oh my! Oh why?
As that night roared, Wind soared inside my bedroom window.

Louder he sang.  His lament becoming a pleading prayer
that no one answered he cried out his desperate despair.
So I questionably obliged, let him sit in my lap.
but I was not expecting him to stay and take a nap.
That Wind he was an icy, cold breeze, left me chilled. He did not care.