The tent-peg shake angrily in the wind
On the sandy soil it looses its strength
while the clouds are dark with the storm
The mighty wind takes her toil upon the hamlet
Dried leaves and sticks fly in circles
Dancing to the tune of the angry wind
The roofs upon the towns houses
Creak and seek to take flight
The tree lines are aroused to a war
Branches swerve in wild friction
Causing panic and fear on the neighborhood
Pines are heard playing their flute loudly
As if it was their last to come
The winds asunder stops
Calmness comes to all
And the clouds are clearer
Allowing all to find their way home
Discover more from Oke’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places
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