All night it beat upon the pane
the cold staccato clamour of the rain;
trickling footsteps pattered on the slates
chimneys shuddered soot into the grates.

Banshee winds about the gutters howled
that grinning orb the moon was cowled
by clashing clouds that fused and broke
with every clashing thunder stroke.

Flickering fingers flashing doom
outlined and probed each object in my room;
frail curtains writhed and frantic flapped
tossing over objects - tempest trapped.

Morning came, rain rinsed smelling sweet,
pavements glinted, drains laughed in the street;
trees gesticulated flinging off their jewels
pigeons sipped the sun from sky-paved pools.

TOBIAS