Whispering Breeze

A soft, whispering breeze, stirs the leaves on the trees, And then suddenly, a gust, lifts the dry settled dust, Things start moving about, and now there's no doubt, That a storm's on the way, coming in from the bay. So it's shutters up folks, there's no time now, for jokes, Batten down all things loose, and bring in the old goose, Or she'll screech out in fright. Now hold her quite tight. There, the rain has begun, and the winds having fun. It'll hang around for a bit, so we'll just wait and sit, Until all's calm once again, with the going of the rain, Clouds will part, sun will peep, and the foliage weep, And a soft, whispering breeze, will stir the leaves on the trees. © Ernestine Northover