The Door

Warm beneath the covers of my bed, I can hear the Storm's high winds over head.
The howling of the trees as they are tossed to and throw,wondering were the swiftly moving wind must go.
With the rain dancing upon the ground the thunder makes it's tremendous sound.
Vibrating every wood and nail, like its trying to make the roof set sail.
The moon is hidden behind the clouds almost like  it is to scared to come out.
Afraid of the thunder and the flash hoping to make a sudden dash.
The clouds huddle close together in their thinking it will make it better.
The thunder lets out its mighty boom, and the lighting chases after the moon.
The wind gives up a might roar but to no avail because I am safe behind The Door.

Michelle Y, Kelley
January 2011