The lake for now is calm
the wind warm and inviting.
I sit here writing while my pen
remains upright. I fight the urge
to let it rest and leave words for another day.
But they say there’s a storm approaching,
and its vile will be encroaching
on an idyllic life. The dark clouds lower
in the distance and I can sense my will
shaken. I have taken every precaution.
Batten down the hatches and catch
a glimpse of the landscape. The only escape
is to ride out the barrage. You’ll come through
if you are really meant to! Warnings have been
posted. If there’s a ghost of a chance we’ll
all survive alive. Thar she blows!