The Mad Wind's Night Work
Evening quiet brought
The darkened portent.
And we slept to dreams
Where we were carried high,
Aloft with tumbling autumn leaf.
But then we woke to the shriek of
The mad wind's night work.
The unseen tormentor,
And stormy fickle fiend arrived.
We attempted in vain to rest
In between the gusts,
That raged with ire and malice;
Wondering what we did to provoke
The mad wind's night work.
We battened down the hatches,
But the wind persisted in its
Malevolence, rattling gates and rooftops.
As we sat out the night accompanied
By hammering and battering and
Whistling and moaning, the jesting of
The mad wind's night work.
The power's still on, grateful for
Small mercies and a bleary eyed cup of tea
As the windows shook and the trees creaked and
Bent and tapped, tapped, tapped on rooftops, but there was no escape.
The night wind delighted in its tormenting.
Another prolonged blast, a gusting laugh from
The mad wind's night work.
And it felt as if the mad wind's night work would never be done.
--
Written for A Poem A Day 2021
Storm Arwen has battered the UK in November 2021. But this week has seen storms Dudley, Eunice and Franklin bring travel chaos, record breaking wind speeds, destruction, flooding and sadly loss of life.
A lot of nights were spent lying awake as the wind howled, with regular crashes and bangs and creaks and shrieks preventing much sleep. Truly the mad wind's night work.
The title comes from a line in a poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Snow Storm.
