The Drumming Melody
Cold and frill makes up the space
Yet warmth and coziness hugs the room into its embrace.
Fog and chills, cloud up the outside
And rain tumbles to the ground some small droplets, and some wide with pride.
A fire crackles as a tender snug, stretching out to reach you
Making sure your not alone, with an empty chair and company of blue weakness.
Back and forth you go on a rocking chair
While the downpour drums a beat and slight winds blow hums no matter what you care.
Drip by drip the droplets come down,
Thumping against your window and making a way to the ground.
Sky, sad and grey fills up the horizon
Clouds all smoky and ghostly looking ready to bound crying, while disguising the bright blue as if hurt by something compromising.
Door creaks open, and a cool wind steps in
You grip a weavers artwork of a mother or grandmother, trying to find warmth even though its clearly thin.
Sipping tea and listening to the rain
As the music never seems to cease to play
When the birds stop to sing and hide away
When I hear a rhythm of beat start a melody finding a way, drumming while you listen to it's silent and loud praise.