A wrenching storm brew overhead,
as we walked on the waters edge.
The wind was about to change,
bringing the big one, surely no game.
We reached the beach with pure
Then came the bell with a song
warning the land...
As it got louder with each note,
we watched a group of children
with their fingers in their ears.
They were no strangers to the
clamber of the bell,
or to the storms, as the peopled yelled,
'storm coming, run'
The storm was something to take serious,
as all the people knew, who lived on
this little island.
The children must have heard the bell
many times before,
and knew what was in store,
as they put their fingers in their ears,
not to hear once again, the chilling fear
that pierced their ears...
Written by Janet Ford
Challenge 'With Their Fingers In Their Ears'
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