Sturm and Drang

As dusk settle

over ranch and mill

Clouds gathered

Tormented skies

Dark contorted hues

'Gonna be a storm Sue

Feel it gathering pace

Tether animals inside

Batten down the place

Turn windmill sails

into the wind

Let's hope for the best

Sand is gonna sting like hell

This is the wild Wild West.

Inside, get inside

It's not safe anymore

Latch the windows

Good and tight

I'll barricade the door'

Brooding Frank

Sat in his chair

Poured himself a malt

Worried bout the horses

Especially Hugh's young colt

Sue had gone up to her room

Quiet as a mouse

Storm did make the timbers groan

It shook, and made Frank choke

Angry, Mill would not survive

Climbing up the stairs

Frank flung Sues door open wide

She sat brushing her hair

Startled, Sue looked round at Frank

Beautiful and fair

Then back to mirror she did turn

again she brushed her hair

Frank stood still and caught his breath

Something inside him gave

As the thunder storming raged

Frank knew just what he craved

He flicked a coin in the air

It landed on the floor

It still was spinning round and round

He walked in, closed the door.