Dark and windy night,
gives way to gray untidy dawn,
the storm outside is tired, her anger spent
beating on my door with weakened fists
and barely veiled contempt,
she needs to sleep and does not want to play,
but she will have her way until the very last,
the worst of her is past, the light will soothe her cries,
dispatch her to her cot,
to think about the things that she has done,
and we may have a peaceful day,
until she throws another one