All through the night – relentless and totally dark. Our 375 year house sits on a high ridge and it does feel like we are sometimes under siege .
A gusting wind
Exhales in bursts
The rain
Like knives spears the dark
Ricochets off ancient walls.
To the keeper of the keys.
The pulsating night
Drinks in thirst
The slates
Vibrate in constant thrum
Relentless cries those riven squalls
This castle under siege.
My Devon Life 