Theresa McCormack – The Night Storm

TheresaTheresa McCormack comes from Cobh, Co. Cork, looking out on the sea. She is married and has two children. She enjoys photography and writing poetry and is a fan of the Cork G.A.A.


The Night Storm

Blustery leaves and branches bend to kiss rooftops
The wind whistles it’s song against the window pane
Toes curl up to one another in comfort
And so the endless pitter patter of the rain.

This old house shakes, quivers and rattles and roars
The ghostly letterbox knocks but nobody’s there
I pull the blanket even tighter
And the storm rages on in the warm salty air.

Flower pots tumble off walls as gusts throw them into space
I toss and I turn in a restless sleep
In my little warm cocoon I shall not emerge till morning
The wind roars through trees and branches leap .

I hear the night storm closing in and grasping tight
Bins roll like tumbleweeds and rain tip taps
My jack Russell barks at Mother Nature’s roar
And cats purr contented taking naps.

Clothes lines rattle and clink at the winds unyielding mercy
I pray for sleep and the gentle lull of night
But the storm continues and gathers pace and glory
In an endless roar she holds on tight.

Dawn breaks and with it peace and calm breezes
You and I stretch hello to the morning sky
We survey the wreckage of broken pots and broken sleep
It’s the end, morning has come, the storm is nigh.



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