Wind

As a dealer she roams, The corners she combs. With aid from the night- Goods she sells right. From the east she flows, The west she goes. In the light she’s poor ‘Tis not dim she’s sure. Troubled with the coat of arm- For her breastplate she can’t fam. 10 Voiceless when sands are active Tamed till all is passive. Ardoured by the evenings- For her adventuresome, Droopy the morning feels- As she is worrisome. To the day’s hate- Her excess frost whirls. As the night’s pet, Atmosphere she curls. 20 Unsung hero- That gives life, The day’s smell she defines, Devises her splendour. Her cologne she patterns- To instancing grandeur Same is a dread villain, Sedates night’s vitality. Streets scourer, life-laden… Such is her propensity 30 Still, a utility material- Whose value is yet colossal.