The howling wind it's wrath be seen,
It ravishes the trees so green,
The birds search aimlessly to land,
Bewildered settling where they can,
For nature is it's own true force,
Each day is different through weathers course,
There's nothing we can say or do,
But sit it out to see it through,
And as the rain hits window pane,
I long for bright and sun filled days,
Where I can lie upon a beach,
Those stormy days then out of reach.
-Jayne Louise Davies
YOU ARE READING
love letters
PoetryDo something instead of killing time,because time is killing you