I Hear the Wind
I hear the wind whispering to the trees
while it blows strands of hair into my face;
playful-like, not so intense to displease.
As Autumn's breath morphs into a brisk breeze
and the setting sun weaves crystalline lace;
I hear the wind whispering to the trees.
Magically enchanted raindrops freeze
and snowflakes fall at a quickening pace;
playful-like, not so intense to displease.
A thing of beauty, an optical tease;
as a scarlet sun sinks without a trace,
I hear the wind whispering to the trees.
Observing alternate realities
evolution and blind faith interface;
playful-like, not so intense to displease.
As temperatures drop a few degrees,
a splattering of flakes fall into place.
I hear the wind whispering to the trees;
playful-like, not so intense to displease.
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