The Weather Game.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
We get use to it. My Poem.

Submitted: August 05, 2019

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Submitted: August 05, 2019

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It rained, stopped, and the sun came,

Nature is always playing this 'weather game.'

Clouds gathered, snow fell,

The landscape was white, you could really tell.

 

Birds flew wildly into trees,

There was a strong windy breeze.

Love was close by, not so far away,

Glad she was there, she made my day.


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