Untitled
by
gogsiniwajo


The moon shines high

A halo all aglow

A storm approaches

From this we know

The wind start to blow

Leaves turn on their side

Bring in the lawn chairs

Its time for a ride

Mysterious brooms

Sweeping the way

Twigs and dust

Nothing will stay

Natures cleansing

Of things unwanted

Howls and echoes

Sounds of the haunted

Swept away

Our minds to focus

The storm has passed

No hocus pocus

New air to breath

New light to shine

The moon is full

Life is all mine

Wajo 3/2002


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