Young Writers Society

I'm lying in my bed.It's late in the night,
Through my blue curtains streams soft starlight.
I hear it again.That anonymous sound,
It never will cease my soul to astound.

Like a whisper in the night and rain in the day,
Yes rain with it's soft,sweet gentle spray.
It clings to my window, then slides gently down,
I listen in awe as it covers the town.

Like the wings of a bird, beating with care,
Or the night angel singing up in the air.
Like leaves gently swinging down to the ground,
Or a child's tiny feet running around.

I sit up and pull the curtains aback,
To see the world: Cold, dark and black.
It's snowing out there!'Tis true as can be!
The sound captures me.You listen and see.....