The storm rolls in across the land,
It’s heavy in the autumn air,
But still she rides, she will not stop
Until she makes it there.
For much the thunder troubles us;
The clouds roll over field and glen —
But still she rides, she cannot rest,
Until makes it back again.
The storm will get her if it can,
It comes on with a will —
The storm is larger than us all,
But love is larger
© Bowie15 | Dreamstime.com – Horse