Tempest of Fear


by: Donald A. MacCord

A gust of wind was dancing upon my window sash.
It gave a subtle warning of what was soon to be.
The gray bleak clouds in the sky above dampened every sound.
A cold wet mist had settled down and lay upon the ground.
I looked but failed my eyes to see a single honey bee,
Nor even the flurry of a squirrel's tail high in the barren trees.

To the north and by the east, a veil was casting down,
Alas I knew it was not long for the Tempest to arrive,
A stillness settled all around, I could not help but frown.
The darkness of that gloomy wall was want to tend a fear,

I turned my back to the gloom outside and settled by the fire.
A book in hand, my cup I filled, I settled down to wait.
The Tempest blew and did it's best to imbed in me some dread,
I felt in me as time did pass my mood grow e're more fowl.

The windows rattled, the floorboards creaked, the chimney much did howl.
An hour passed and then another, my nerves in quite a state,
I closed my eyes and blocked my ears to ward away my fear,
It seemed like hours I stayed that way not keen to face the storm.
My  cup went cold, my book unread, fell down upon the floor.

And then it happened, I felt the warmth as it settled on my face,
I opened my eyes and saw the light, bright on the curtain lace.
And then I  knew that the Tempest had passed and I was safe again.
I picked the book from where it lay and glanced at the open page,

It told the story of another storm and the fear of the men that day.
It told of how and more of why, He had calmed that Tempest's fray. 
I know now, that I was wrong  to let my fear take hold,
For He had said to 'have some faith, through it you can be bold.'.  

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