Tempest Poem by David Wood

The air was thick with torrential rain
That hammered down relentlessly
From thick dark swirling clouds

And was blown by a malevolent wind that
Shook the bones of tall trees snapping
Off old weary branches

Leaves with golden hues or russet red
Blew in every direction as the hour glass
Melted towards late evening

No animal stirred or made a sound
As the land was hit like a hammer on a
Blacksmith's forge by such foul weather

The only sound a tin can rattling along the
Street it seems so foolish to be out in such
Weather squelching and squelching along

Nights cape was blowing in such a tempest
In a starless dark night that the sight of
Home brought such sheer delight