In the spirit of old comradership....

My years were singing
I heard screaming, then sobbing
Then the groaming of the wind
A storm was getting up
An autumn snowfall
Tonight a veritable sea storm
slapping the shutters whistling in the eaves
I stand at the study window
watching the raindrops
slash across the glass...
I peere into the blackness

A white hand tap tapping on the window pane.....
in the conventional lover's bower....