Hear the rushing and the gushing
Of the wind’s resounding might,
O’er the ruckus of the rain
As it howls through the night.
Hear the squeaking and the creaking
Of the house’s aging frame,
As I hunker in my bunker;
Hear the walls whisp’ring my name.
Hear the rumble and the tumble
Of the thunder on the run,
As it clashes and it bashes
On my aching ear drum.
Hear the rustling and the bustling
As the storm begins to fade,
Leaves start dancing; they are prancing,
And my sleep’s no more delayed.