Friday night a storm started blowing in

The moon once clear, but with a halo, became fuzzy with clouds

By morning we were in a series of storms

The clouds grey and vaporous, dark and wraithlike

The wind pushing them along in a haunting song of winter’s lullaby

The wind was so sharp and cold it could peel your skin

All around the storm’s outriders turned the world to grey and then white

The wind howled and the rain fell flat and stinging

But by evening the lashing storm had spent itself, moving onward to other parts of the land

The clouds turned to gold and the air filled with sunshine.

Although, we are cold today…the day is beautiful; singing a much different song then yesterday!

From my heart to your world,

Linda