Poetry

The Storm

by John Puckett 
02/20/25
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The Storm

The window shakes from rain fast-beating,
From grey-torn clouds the sky fast-fleeting,
Relentless vapours madly swirling,
First autumn deluge earthwards hurling.

The chimney howls from wind mad-rushing,
From gutters pour full floods out-gushing,
Remorseless gales and gusts hard pressing,
Each earthly structure's strength assessing.

Yet safe within those walls defending,
With firelight glow and shadows blending,
Two children small, the storm unheeding,
At Mother's knee, her Bible reading.

"God is their tower of strength defending,
He is their refuge never-ending,
His plenty all their need supplying,
Their help in life, their life in dying."

"Is he our help, from storms protecting?
Is life quite safe, his care expecting?
And Mother, if our lives were ending,
Could peace be ours, on him depending?"

"My children, hear the storm attacking,
Just hear the howl, the rafters racking.
You trust in me, your Mother caring,
Your peace is mine — my peace you're sharing."

"Much more is God in Christ worth taking
To be your trust, all else forsaking.
In storms of life, with all else failing,
His powerful love is all-prevailing."

"Learn well, my loves, from nature's teaching
The lessons God is often preaching.
Learn better still, his Word, plain-speaking -
His love, his safety - yours for seeking.”

Written 15th January, 1984, after a violent snow and hail storm at our home in North Dorset, UK.