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| Extreme Weather |
The radar in the TV roomShows stormy weather I presume
Looks like the sky, Just might comply
As clouds above begin to plume
It's like someone has used a broom
To sweep the clouds and make them bloom
We can't deny, What they imply
A picture of impending doom
As things grow dark approaching gloom
There's comfort in our household womb
I'm somewhere dry, And want to spy
Upon the scene from in my room
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| Guide to Weather Forecasting |
Darkness descends just like a tombThe wind sounds like a furnace room
Then by and by, The sky lets fly
With a cacophonous kaboom
Inside the house is filled with gloom
Outside apocalyptic doom
Then by and by, We heave a sigh
As peace and silence soon resume
