The freshening breeze begins its discordant symphony!
First only a susuruss in the quivering trees,
Softly, quite softly, disturbing no-one,
But strengthening until it whines through the cracks
Like a chorus of violins!
The flutes and trumpets join the strings
As the keening wind stirs up the leaves and twigs,
And makes the doors and windows shake!
The horns join in, their reverberating energy at gale force
And the drums thunder their parts.
Now the Cymbals crash and flash in their lightning spotlight,
While the rain beats down on the roof
Like rattling kettle drums.
Soon the blaring of the horns subsides;
The stridence of the trumpets and flutes diminishes
And the rattle of the drums slows to a
Tap, Tap, Tap-
Drip, Drip, Drip-
The musicians set aside their instruments
As the storm abates,
Leaving the stage once more
In Peace
And tranquillity.

Youth Is A State Of The Soul -
Nothing To Do With Age, But Everything To Do With Attitude.
http://personal.nbnet.nb.ca/steldon/

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