It's gloomy, dark,
Clouds all marked,
With windy hustle,
And thundery bustle.
The sky turned pale,
Fragranced with ester-y smell,
And in the watery dale,
Paper boats set sail.
The weather is wet,
But not a slightest hate,
Wrapped in a blanket so warm,
Safe from the storm's harm.
The lightning sparks,
Unlade sky of larks,
While rustling leaves,
Whisper an important eve.
All signs of an advent plain,
Welcome the drizzling rain,
Nature is so happy about,
After all, it's raining out.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 1:52 AM UTC
It's gloomy, dark,
Clouds all marked,
With windy hustle,
And thundery bustle.
The sky turned pale,
Fragranced with ester-y smell,
And in the watery dale,
Paper boats set sail.
The weather is wet,
But not a slightest hate,
Wrapped in a blanket so warm,
Safe from the storm's harm.
The lightning sparks,
Unlade sky of larks,
While rustling leaves,
Whisper an important eve.
All signs of an advent plain,
Welcome the drizzling rain,
Nature is so happy about,
After all, it's raining out.
Challenging myself to write something different from my usual hopeless theme.
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