The gale that bent both trunk and branch and cruelly shattered twig and leaf
To quietude and peaceful ease showed no respect, brooked no belief
I listened for a time and thought what mighty sound the wind had made
The crash and bash of wood on wood sufficed to make the dogs afraid
The moment that this thought occurred another thought in challenge rose
The wind makes little noise itself and much less than one might suppose
So whence therefore came all that noise that shattered bark and banished peace?
That broke the spell that had me bound and caused all simple joys to cease?
Conundrums such as this I love, they're fuel for poems and monologues
But that is for another day, I'd better go and find the dogs.
Copyright Allan Bantick December 2017