No Pattern to the Mist

Hearing the rain reminds me of nights stayed in,
There was always something soothing about the wind;

The house shaking with every blowing gale,
The lights would blink, the lights would fail;

An extra blanket may be needed, it's bound to get cold,
Holding the covers tight, the heat I must hold;

The winds and rain violently crashing against the glass,
Each and every gust so much different than the last;

Whipping at the window no pattern to the mist,
Sometimes the sounds would allow me to drift;

I lie in bed staring at the ceiling,
The storm outside sometimes defines how I'm feeling;

As the rain pours down I get lost in my thoughts,
I recall the memories I had almost forgot;

Nowhere to be and nowhere to go,
Whistling of the wind as it continues to blow;

Tonight I’ll curl up to the howling pitter patters,
For now at least nothing else matters.

5 Comments on “No Pattern to the Mist

  1. So you’re a pun enthusiast, eh? We’ll I have a degree in punology, my friend. So you show me yours and I’ll show you mine. Do you know why a tree is a better pet than a dog? The bark won’t wake up the neighbors. You’re up.

  2. I’m very fond of poems written in couplets. Your rhymes flow well… they don’t feel forced.

    Your blog is well designed. I am a little disconcerted, however, to see that I also follow every blog you have in your “blogs I follow” list. Perhaps a case for the X-Files?

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