Her Voice:

Her voice is like the wind
So soft and so gentle,
When she brushes across you
It's not all by accidental.

For she's so mysterious
And much harder to see,
If you didn't feel her there
Then you would never believe.

But she's always right on time
Like she's on some schedule,
For she comes and she goes
With her petal to the metal.

All that you ever will see
Is just but a sound of her,
When she starts coming in
It's not hardly even a blur.

The next thing that you know
She's on the next train out,
With a noise so big and loud
You might just need to shout.

Then all about will be calm
Not even a single little sound,
Until Miss old Mother Nature
Will again travel into town.