The Storm
by Richard Van
Liquid pearls drifting slowly
Then quickly down the pane
Bringing back, then taking away
Memories of the insane
Oak fingers tapping at the glass
First sleep is kept away
Then hypnotized imagined rest
Wishing love could stay
Flashes of light disturb the night
Piercing black with pure white
Blindness comfort
Taken away by sight
I close my eyes
Your image takes form
And once again
Helps me weather -- The Storm