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The weather shouts
 
The rain has poured, the wind has roared
The temp has dropped, the rain needs mopped
The water so deep, surprise, no leaks
The chances slim, the lights now dim
The clouds so thick, light candlestick
Temps fall so low, no, it won't snow
My body leans, find my thick jeans
Start glowing fire, my fond desire
The storm will go, the sun will show
As temps arise, the clearing skies
Ups, downs of spring, the birds still sing
Abundant joy, all nature ploys
The mountains shout, the rivers spout
The sheep are found, the harpist sound
Enduring grace, before my face
Still I will sing, My God is King

By olderandbolder

© 2017 olderandbolder (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The NO FRILLS CHALLENGE--read page for complete rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The NO FRILLS CHALLENGE--read page for complete rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The NO FRILLS CHALLENGE--read page for complete rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The NO FRILLS CHALLENGE--read page for complete rules and info (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - The NO FRILLS CHALLENGE--read page for complete rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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