The clouds came down from the sky
They rolled over the hills
And decimated cities,
When the derecho came.

You do not need to know what I do
It is a weird question
"What do you do?"
Followed by
"Hi, how are you?"
It is the bullshittery of it all
The nonsense like that of Aqua Net.
Keeping every strand in place girl
Don't you worry
Aqua Net has saved many a day
She is the superhero of the world

Of unspoken kind words that broke down in the process,
Under pain that suddenly storms.
To receive more than I ever deserve,
Even when you would know of my faults.

Holding on, realising it's reckless,
Asking for more than I am able to hold.
Pushing luck just to end up lost nowhere—
Halfway close, halfway back, and offshore.

Residue of a storm, left behind and round.
A spa for those who croak.
Nature's water fountain for those too small to ask.
A vacation in rock. Minor invertebrate have a home.
More adding into; a ripple effect.
Bespattered by its surrounding walls, some clear instead.

A new stand laced up, a day to face.
A stride cut off by some plash, the sky!
Dark and your steps now dampened too deep.
Look at it this way, the earth had a laugh.
The best you can do is entertain it.

The snow falls thick outside,
its quiet weight presses against the windows.
Let it snow, let it snow
but the cold feels heavier this year.

The fire crackles softly,
but it can’t quite chase the shadows away.
The tree stands tall,
but its lights seem dim,
flickering faintly like memories
too distant to reach.

Silent night
but the silence has a weight to it,
a hum that fills the room,
reminding you that stillness doesn’t mean peace.

The room is warm,
yet it feels like something is missing,
a hollow that the carol of the bells can’t fill.
We sit together,
but the distance between us stretches
like the snow gathering outside,
quiet and inevitable.

The wind wails,
rattles the glass,
claws at the trees,
shakes the bones of the house.

Rain slams down,
rivers racing,
thunder grumbling,
lightning splitting the sky apart.

But here—

Flames flicker,
logs crack,
embers glow,
heat seeps into the floor.

Blankets pile,
heavy, soft,
tucking me in,
wrapping me whole.

Sweater sleeves,
loose and worn,
slip past my hands,
stretched by years of holding on.

A mug of cocoa,
steam curling,
scent of cinnamon,
warmth pressed to my lips.

The storm rages,
wind howls,
windows shudder—

But I am still.
Eyes droop,
fire whispers,
the night holds me close.

Breath deepens,
muscles loosen,
the weight of the day melts away,
and silence settles soft around me.

Fingers twitch once,
then rest,
the world outside growing quieter
as the warmth lulls me deeper.

The fire crackles,
soft as a sigh,
and sleep comes slow,
a quiet invitation
to drift into peace.

She is my peace
her arms my warmth
her smile my joy
her love, my home.

The sailing Sun
Burns through the sky
With huge clouds of black and purple
Hot on her tail.

We all pray that she beats them to the horizon,
That we might remember this day as a beautiful one.

Missing the rain,
Leaves me in a blurry haze.
The sound of dripping drops,
Falling onto the rooftop.
The wish to hold you close,
As the thunder boasts.