It was a cold morning
It was the middle of June
Without notice, instant warning
The weather sung another tune.
A warmth swept across her face
She thought it appropriate to smile
She sat on the grass to admire the place
and enjoy this feeling she had for a while.
On top of the cliff, there were flowers
she had never observed before.
Nature had gifted natural powers
Seeds had embedded from being washed ashore.
She stroked petals, admired the shadows cast
There was a breeze being swept from the sea
She has read the papers, no bad weather forecast
Now the branches were swaying on the tree.
The clouds huddled together and turned grey
A violet hue appeared from nowhere above
As dark and dense as a blueberry souffle
and now as blue as a garden foxglove.
Something was happening and on the cards
Hairs on the back of her neck stood tall.
Fear set in as if she were in the darkest graveyards.
She was near the cliff edge -  she could fall
She crawled in land to be on the safe side.
She thought it better to crouch low.
She wished she had somewhere to hide
Somewhere the wind would have the chance to blow.
But there was nothing, just a flat hill top with a steep drop.
The strength of the wind picked up a pace.
She just wanted everything to stop
But the wind now slashed the skin from her face.
It whistled, it whined, it swept her here and there.
She crawled like she had never before to get from the edge
This situation now became a living nightmare
She disappeared into a ditch and clung onto a thorny hedge.
She lay there wet and cold for the best part of an hour
Clinging onto something sharp, with hope in her heart.
The wind had blown the petals from the little flower
The sky had now cleared, clouds were ready to depart.
The wind had ceased, there began a sense of calm
Her legs were ***** and covered in a wet sticky dew
But she was safe and sound and away from harm
She had a story to tell, the day the wind blew.