Hearkening  

Some days are chimed by gentle wind  
and nimbostratus gray  
almost as if Poseidon grinned  
upon the land for play...
 
so no extremes of hot or cold,
or shadows and sunbeams,
would strike a critter as too bold  
for critter self-esteems.  
 
Thus the furtive squirrels draw near  
when that state of affairs  
reduces all their rodent fear
about their weather cares.  
 
But Poseidon's weather command  
at last must call it quits,
at keeping dry the squirrel land,
with nimbostratus spritz.  
 
The wind picks up and more leaves fall  
and skies return to dark  
where no moonbeams will fall at all...
when chimes to raindrops hark.