Wind

A short poem I wrote a while ago about a windy day

As the wind taps at my window I wake with a snap.

I pull open the curtains as a pigeon escapes with a flap.

Then I gaze into my leaf ridden garden as the wind continues to blow.

Wooden fingers scrape at the glass as the gail will come and go.

I soon hear splintered cracking as a mighty oak comes tumbling down.

Its impact causes the house to shake all around.

My pet cat comes charging in wanting my protection,

because it is terrified of the storm.

Leaves are ripped from trees and are thrown into a mini tornado.

As they twirl and whirl those wooden fingers still can’t get in.