I don't write poetry, but I'll give it a shot...

The Devil Peeping Through My Window

The pouring rain takes sudden flight,
Crashing barren fields with might.
A brewing storm comes drawing nigh;
With nightfall, the dark winds sigh.

The crickets cease,
No sound, they creep;
Their silence holds a mystery deep.
The lonesome music,
Commands the world to fall mute.

The woodland creatures take to cover.
I draw the curtain slowly over,
And there, beyond the trembling willow,
The Devil peeping through my window.

I close my eyes to ease distress;
Then look out, with tightened breath.
A quiet shift in recollection,
The Devil’s face… my own reflection.