Show Me the Wind

Show Me the Wind. Fragrance of Bluebell, threads between Pines Caresses gentle crisp Oak leaves, in falling times Falls Acorns gently, onto beds of Ferns Whips up sand, and its ripples, in tide that turns Fans the wild fire, in the dry summer grass Turns umbrellas inside, out as people walk past Whispers in sea shells, asleep on the shore Carries mists in land, rattles the front door Keeps coloured kites afloat, held tight by a string Enables tin whistles, their dance song too bring Moves amongst hedgerows, and startles the sheep Blows wild black bin bags, along the dark street So show me the wind in its glory and form Accompanied by lightning, moving closer a storm.