After The Storm
I watch from my bed as the wind howls,
Twisting the trees into unatural shapes.
Too much water falls from the sky,
And cascades over swollen gutters
To surround my house
In a waterfall veil.
The wind howls and screams,
As it forces it's way
Through tiny spaces in my window panes.
Mayhem is outside my window
And I am warm and safe
Thinking of you
With a smile on my face.
Nothing can take away
That I am loved by this man
With his song in my heart
He pulls me in tighter
As if to protect me with his words
And I am as filled with calm
As tomorrows sky.
I am in love.
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Comments about this poem (After The Storm by Lisa Weeks )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(12 March 1922 - 21 October 1969)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 February 1900 – 11 April 1977)
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