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.
Copyright © John Lusardi | Year Posted 2022
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