Upon the step, one shall wait
For violent storms to dissipate.
The thunderous echos passing by
As streaks of tension light the sky.
The downpour breaks and vision fades
To haze of grey as it cascades.
Yet even still, amongst the rain
Their figures somehow still remain.
If one walks out and through the door
The garden rests, with hues galore.
One shall see in turning stride
The rows of blossoms side by side.
They work to balance out the grey
And let one know that it’s okay.
From time to time, the forecast breaks
And they remain, despite these stakes.
Some spirits stay, and some subside;
Not everyone can brave the tide.
And there can be no promise made
For who shall rise and who shall fade.
The storms shall pass in dawning day,
And broken weeds shall wash away.
But until then one can simply rest
In protection of the manor’s crest.
And one should know that even so,
As time moves on and things let go,
That one is never all alone.
For in this home, a family’s grown.