Written Autumn.07
Shrill dreams of whispering winds,
Blowing the flowers with warnings it sends.
A darkened set of clouds across a black sky.
Hear each sound the storm blows by.
Howling winds from somewhere far away.
A lightning strike where a garden once lay.
The thunder sounds a screech so low,
But 'tis the end of the storm, I now know.
The sky turns back to blue today.
Soft, peaceful winds have something to say.
Now listen closely, for their story is not done;
Tomorrow a storm will yet again hide the sun.
But just for now as the sun shines bright,
My dreams stay silent, and through the night,
The winds continue to whisper as they eerily blow,
And through the day, the warning's stay low.
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