Living on a ridge, looking out to sea, you can see the weather approaching…….
Low pressure is building,
Forecasters are right,
And a storm is coming our way.
Dark clouds and the wind,
Conspiring together,
To spoil the peace of the bay.
Windows are closed
And doors are shut tight,
A sensible precaution to take.
We’ve seen it before,
What a big storm can do,
The damage that’s left in its wake.
A wild wind now howling
Across the ridge,
Nothing can escape from its path;
Trees bow in homage
To the lord of the storm,
But nothing will appease his wrath.
Rain clatters down
In great heavy bursts,
Soaking the hard, parched ground;
And birds and animals
Seek out some shelter,
Wherever it can be found.
Lightning forks
Streak across the sky,
It’s nature’s most fearsome display;
And the thunder god Thor
Sounds so very close,
Although we know that he’s so far away.
The sea is now angry,
White horses appear,
The waves are crashing the shore;
Adding to the noise
Of the thunder and wind,
In nature’s cacophonous roar.
Windows and doors
Rattling in their frames,
Roof timbers beginning to creak.
Exposed to the wind,
Which whirls round the house,
Searching for a spot that is weak.
The roar of the wind,
The drum of the rain,
There’s no chance to get any sleep.
With a storm outside,
Wanting to come in,
It’s such a long vigil to keep.
Then all of a sudden
The wind seems to go,
In a rush to be quiet once again.
Daylight breaks,
And the sun pushes through
Driving away all the rain.
The sea returns
To its gentle swell,
Its waves now caressing the shore.
The birds reappear,
Singing their songs,
Peace is back on the ridge once more.
