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wind dreams

Naught but a billowed vagabond A breeze longing to shriek Soar on an eagle’s up draft Plunge, predator-like, to earth Riffle the grasses as I pursue The limitations of my fate

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Valsa George

Date: 3/22/2024 8:14:00 PM

The wind being compared to a vagabond is so apt and poetic. As the breeze gains momentum, it becomes a shrieking wind or storm. It also shuffles the grass. With this short poem, you have proved your prowess as a poet, dear John.

Hilda Greenhough

Date: 3/21/2024 6:15:00 PM

An energetic and inviting poem that seems to lift the reader skyward. I'm sending smiles.

Lin Lane

Date: 3/21/2024 7:40:00 AM

The wind actually is a vagabond. Giving thought to its initiator, direction, velocity. Too deep? It’s flighty… pardon my pun. Excellent drafting, John. ;-)

Di11y Da11y

Date: 3/21/2024 2:26:00 AM

John! You are a stunning master of words - amazing. Faved.