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The Weather

It's a cooker left on 5,000C!

Blue sky, no clouds; roastin'.

The river: waterless.

A sun that's a golden fireball, It's aye bonnie

Then, wee patches of black, rain ready clouds show

Wee whippy raindrops plummeting at breakneck speed

Volts of killin' thunder, wee sparks flee, every yin bolts for shelter

Afterwards, wailing like a baby

Winds screaming, louder than a banshee

Then a turning tube, a dizzy giant,

The world gets sucked up.

Rick Smith, aged 12, of Kelso High Transformation

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