Le Shorts, Poetry

The Warning

There’s a storm a’brewin’, love.
The winds are getting fierce.
Pay attention to the stars
If you happen to see above
The wayward clouds.

The trees are bowing low.
Listen well because they know
When the storm is brewing,
You best be doing
Farewell.

Now the sky is growing dim,
The clouds they’re turning black.
When you hear the warning call,
You best listen in
Or else.


FanTC
Copyright FanTCBooks

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