Wind Melody

Wood's voices are loud, and the wind is weary. It hurts and hurts as the fall leaves turn dreary. On the saffron-robed eastern dark tally swarm. Sheets dropped in a thin line from a massive storm. November arrives, and a cool breeze follows. Cheer meals and fireplaces are roaring bellow. Warm passion beguiled the blizzard and brief days. And December ushers in cool breezeways. The sun had fallen, and the moon was nearing. The dawn brings fresh vitality and jeering. Lights wander into the night without remorse. Skylights rejoice, and azure woven waves hoarse. Winter winds sweep across during November. It was the first snowfall I can remember. At dawn, a mystical miasma peeks through. A blade of grass has silvery drops of dew. The sound of the rain is soft hum on the roof. Tinkling against the glass window of my woof Abet me figure out where the muse came from. Both gentle and substantial rain seems to come. Tenderly tethered snowflakes flutter downwind.  The realm of presence enters its dozing bind. The land is fully coated in sparkling white. Let's remain indoors, where it's nice and quiet. Sounds and recollections are being consumed. Dewdrops in the mornings of winter are doomed. Unmet sorrow, your gaze snatched my breath away. Winter winds obscure the sun's buoyant display. 1st Place Contest Winner Written: November 10, 2022 Checked by HMS.COM/11 syllables per line. November or December Quatrain Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger