The Howling Wind
J
Jayne Louise Davies
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The wind howls at midnight,
It's blowing a gale,
And there in the darkness,
It's leaving a trail,
Of pure destruction,
As the trees bend and bow,
The wraths of nature,
Before me right now.
As I look through my window,
The sounds of the night,
The birds in the woodland,
They sit there in fright.
For they face the changes,
Of nature each day,
Out in all weathers,
Come what may.
Jayne Louise Davies
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