A Mid Summer Storm

The rain is falling down heavy,

the sky is dark and grey.

I lit a scented candle so my

room smells warm and sweet,

I sit in a chair by my window,

and watch the rain fall down.
Oh how I love a mid summer storm.
The heat of the day is all washed away.
By my mid summer storm.

The Bus Bench (ending two)

...An old woman opened the door and said "Henry??!?" With a shocked look on her face "yes" he said "she must have tolled you about me? Is she home?" he asked kindly "Henry where have you been?" She said "I'm right on time what are you talking about?" She said. " No Henry your not right on time! You're 40 years late!" Henry thought in his head "wow this woman is crazy!  I'll come back later and explain to Jane why I didn't show up.  As he was buttoning up his jacket  he noticed his hand was all wrinkled and aged about 40 years.  

The Bus Bench (ending one)

... An old woman about 40 years older then Jane opened the door, Henry said "Oh, hello ma'am you must be Jane's mother, is she home?"
The woman looked shocked "Sir Jane died 40 years ago as of yesterday at a bus stop on a rainy day. And I am her twin sister."

The Bus Bench (part one)

One rainy day a very pretty young woman sat on a bus bench waiting for the bus, when a cab driver named Henry was driving by and saw her sitting there soaked with rain he stopped and rolled down the window and said "hiya miss do you want a ride I don't think the bus is coming?" and the young woman said "sure that would be great thank you, and my name is Jane what is yours?" Henry said "lovely name miss, my name is Henry" the woman smiled and got in the car.
They got talking and he asked her when they came to her house if maybe she would like to get some coffee the next day and she smiled and said "yes I would love to please pick me up here at 2 o'clock"
"I'll be here" he said.
The next day Henry showed up at Jane's house and rang the bell...

Christmas Window

The moon is high
the air is cold,
the sky dark blue,
as I sit by my window.

Watching the stars everywhere,
filling the cold dark
air with the sound of the wind
whistling through the bare, sleeping trees.
The birds have flown
and the snow has fallen
just has the eyes of everyone in the house
but me,
as I sit by my window.

I watch the snow fall on my rooftop,
and on the trees and the sidewalks and the roads
and the snow falls on the park
and the gardens in the neighbours' yards,
as the snowy white blanket covers the earth
I start to drift off in to sleep
as I sit by my window.