Best Wind Poems
Silently, I sat by,
To listen to the sounds of the world,
Of all the voices that touched me most,
Were those caught in the angelic wind,
For all things have a voice,
And the voice for all things
speaks through the wind,
So, silently I sat and listened.
With the salty taste of a tear
As it touched my upper lip,
A smile appeared.
All the while the wind kept blowing,
Secret after secret, revealing to me,
If only I could comprehend its wisdom.
But that is half the allure,
Happy I am just to hear it blow,
And acknowledge its influence over my spirit.
The wind has taught me many things,
Though, I cannot speak for the wind,
Instead, let it speak for me.
In riming realms
of crystal contemplations -
frozen water-vapor meditations
and chilled flutes
filled with zodiacal-light musings
of ancient cosmic dust
dancing in the arms of Sol..
windswept operatic reveries
rise and fall
as her stirring soprano
tickled by the chanting of icicle chimes
gathers momentum
in strengthening sprays
of frosted musical notes adrift in broken chords
she bestrides
a clouded steed colored mother-of-pearl
flowing with fury
within which beats a blustery heart
surging at jet stream speeds
on the clattering beat of hailstorm hooves
from streamer-skies of the northern dancers
they fly aloft
on arctic gales of lyrical laughter
igniting the imagination
of her freezing fire
burning now with a blistering whip
and a frostbite nip
that sinks its tingling teeth deep
sailing
a supernatural stage
amplifying—
her aerated soprano soars
in polar vortex arias
as an avalanche of glazed trinkets
—descendants of her fertile femininity
skydive
in shivering sixfold symmetry
falling
in fierce flights of fancy
as she cyclones on consecrated currents
with wild abandon
escalating
in twirling trills
of glass beaded squalls
swirling her iced eiderdown skirts aflare
baring tempest thighs
storming with a Siberian sting!
..and as her electric eyes spark
luminous with lightning
she buries you in a blizzard
of opalescent mistletoe berries
and wanton whims.
On the edge of silence
beyond mossy-muffled stone walls
a wind chime chants—faint
like falling sparkles of stars;
honeyed musings
of a wind-spirit on the move,
west to east
a bridge of broken chords.
Cosmic animation
stirs my domestic pulsation.
In a supple sweep
from beyond the western dusk,
soft notes jangle in sweet saunter—
so like you,
an angel’s riff on an airy whiff.
O wind chanter,
I hear your chimes
as I linger
in undying love for him
…yes
I hear you, singer!
Sing to me of his approach!
For alone,
on the cold stone of a lifeless dusk,
I mourn the most.
Like a moth vibrating
around the lantern’s glow,
I feel the brush of his touch
amid breezy flutters;
flirtations
with a long blonde tress
and the white frills
of my nightdress.
O bittersweet enchantment!
O wild yet tender wind—O embracing visitor!
But how do I hold you?
How do I hold the wind, my love?
Always! Always!
You slip away
on blank paper wings!
My human nature aspires to fly
but my every heartbeat; rib-caged.
Ironclad in mortal armor.
Obliged to the grasp of gravity’s greed.
Damn the bane of my spirit’s capture
and love’s coupled yoke
that did not die with you!
Damn the bane of my lifeblood
bound to its artery stream bed!
Though my lovelorn river
pulses with throbs of a tide robbed
not even a river’s rapture
can compete with the thrills
of your unbound freedom—
oh death’s freedom!
The ringing sleigh-bell singing
of spring peepers intrudes
O wind chanter, distant wind chime,
your tinsel talk fades.
He is lost to me again—
Lost!
Lost
lost….
I stop to watch the eagle soar.
At dawn his silhouette flies high
Through brilliant tinted scarlet sky.
Below the gorge at valley’s floor,
The creatures rise up one by one;
A quest for food has just begun.
I listen to the fierce winds roar.
Descending from the north they blow
And carry in the first light snow.
They make the river crest the shore
When swirls of vivid hues abound
Dancing before they touch the ground
As autumn breezes in once more.
I marvel at the leaves in flight
And wonder where they will alight.
I stop to watch the eagle soar.
Below the gorge at valley’s floor,
I listen to the fierce winds roar.
They make the river crest the shore
As autumn breezes in once more.
7-29-20
~Poem of the Day July 31, 2020~
Constanza Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
Thank you very much Team Poetry Soup and members for this honor.
I remember you, from when there was a spring
When the seasons were ripe, with verdant green
Our nimble feet danced in the wind
and on the brink of everything
Not a furrow in the brow of youth
We borrowed life for just awhile
and tapped our shoes on childhood's stage
where carefree laughter was the rage
that filled each age with promised smiles
We danced and twirled a twin ballet
just you and me on summer's waves
Two pirouettes, in mode of curls
of blossoms, frilled, and tender leaves
unfurled in winds, we found a way
to soar our wings, above the world
We knew not yet
of death or dying
or of regret, or cause for crying
But, something frowned upon the season
You caught the wind, and without reason
A colder wind
that kept you flying
far beyond my eyes could see
And to the other side
you disappeared
beyond my words
beyond my tears
Now here alone
I touch the day
and taste the night
remembering
I will walk alone, in autumn sun
And lay myself on dying leaves
I think of you and think of then
I feel the wind against my face
that sweeps me to a distant place
where I recall what time erased
I'm closer now... to hear the sound
The whisper of the seasons calling
Above the trees, the sky is blue
I think of you, and feel the breeze
And all the while, the leaves must fall
9/2013
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I am the wind
You cannot see me but you can feel me
Breezing gently through your hair
Brushing slightly across your cheek
Whispering softly 'neath your ear
I am the wind whirling,howling,roaring
blowing fiercely against the desert sand
which sifts silently in the hourglass of your soul
I will not fail you,nor leave your side
till you smell fresh rain again
and soak under cascading waterfalls
I am the wind extinguishing wild fire
which scars the lifeline of your palm
I am the wind blowing whimsically
in the honey fragrance of each meadow
where you lay beneath a half sun
I breathe my warmth where your cold fingers
gather forget-me-not petals
that fall ever so slow
with every drip drop of my fluetish tapping sound
I am the wind,I will carry you to places ,far
I'd tickle your lips with fluttering feathers
of early doves which soar above your mirthful past
I'd strip your thought bare till I touch that heart
I am the wind wafting by your pillowcase
I play within your dreams
with each seductive move
Capturing the hour of a star
I linger in the depths of all that once was dark
I pour rose- scented zephyr into your night
and We would never part,No! We'll never part
I am the wind
Midsummer Breeze
How may I extol a midsummer breeze?
As soft as rose petals in cooling wind
That flutters leaves upon the verdant trees,
And endeavors to make the blossoms blend
From blooming boughs whose wistful petals drift
In a mélange of hues that blankets grounds
In vivid masterpiece of summer's gift,
Sharing red rose’s splendor that abounds.
Ten summers have passed since we said good-bye.
The son you never knew still causes tears
As evening shadows fill this twilight sky,
Through him I've loved you more all of these years.
Soon all is hushed in shadow's silhouette
When moonrise turns blue skies to violet
7-29-18
Not Just Any Old Rose Poetry Contest. ~Poem of the Day Jul 31, 2018~
Sponsor: Mark Massey ~7th placement premier contest~
I followed one day a spring breeze at play.
It seemed not to know where to go.
And aimlessly, I - like a butterfly -
meandered with it to and fro.
Among bright blue bells, it tired a spell.
Recovering, it picked up speed.
Alongside a rill, I ran with a thrill
just to know where the breeze might lead.
My heart filled with song as I danced along,
careening through meadows of green.
And then the breeze dove into a large grove,
the loveliest I’d ever seen.
No longer a breeze, it whipped around trees.
It whistled while beckoning me,
and as it passed through where tall redwoods grew,
I was following, wild and free.
In that beautiful place, it changed its pace
and got stronger, for the breeze goes
where sturdy trees thrive. I felt so alive!
I have been to where the wind blows.
The ocean waves come rolling in
There’s not a soul in sight
With heaving breath they break on shore
And burst in brilliant white.
The sound of wind is in the air
The jutting rocks stretch high
Tall redwood trees defiant stand
So tough, and yet they sigh.
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Theme: No 2 ~ Shoreline
Form: ‘common meter stanza’
Author: Paul Callus ~1st April 2015
Contest: Let Me Feel Your Lines
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placed 1st
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Poem of the Day ~ 2nd April, 2015.
Due to growing Nimbus clouds of oppression
an area of low pressure has been building
Rest assured, it won't lead to bouts of depression
but rumblings of thunder have now been heard,
foreshadowing the bombs of fury soon to come.
Be advised: the ripping winds will not be deterred.
To counteract and neutralise any negative vibes
this Poetry Souper has been on a strict vegetarian diet
of lentils, cabbage soup, curry and beans; re-fried
They have been consumed in copious quantities.
Take shelter from wind gusts. There may be a riot!
Steps are being taken because many have died
from the expulsions of a toxic build up of gas.
It's predicted to be tornado level turbulence
emanating from winds blown out of my a s s
Anatomically referred to as expelled flatulence.
Blowouts should be considered as lethal blasts,
and not to be taken lightly, ignored, or scorned.
This is a public service alert of severe wind forecast.
The approaching storm is of gigantic proportions.
Gas masks are advised. You have been warned!
Warning Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Richard Lamoureux
Submitted to Weather Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Angela Tune
2/28/20
~~The Wind~~
Look into my eyes
Follow me into a world of ecstasy
There and only there
Will you find the peace to unwind
~
Beautiful brown eyes not blue
Shady lids, stunning ocean view
Embracing every word
Hear the wind whisper your name
Come with me
Drown with me
Into the abyss of loving rain
Embrace this moment as I draw you in with words
Release you with the warmth -------I was there
I Share--I take
I LOVE--I HATE
Into my arms
I am the charm
Around your neck
Around your wrist
Listen to the voice of my beating heart
It yearns
The freedom of touch
The freedom of speech.
Of love,
Of purity
Like the wind
I'll find my way
Into your heart
Arouse cheerful energy
Of your insecurity and pen
Follow me into the sea
There we will fall into the deep
Build sand castles
Around dreams of reality
Slip into my aura light
Set to the rhythm of the oceanic night
Now, listen to the breeze
It's called out your name
It's only a matter of time----------------
You'll find yourself calling out...... mine
I lay down
A lazy Sunday afternoon
The first winds from the north
Blowing snow like a blanket upon our souls
I fall asleep, in a haze of dreams
Where there she appears and forgive the obvious
The woman of my dreams
Never undressed, mind nor body
Here, in my delusion I beg for her heart
Tears roll down upon her chest
I whisper softly, tell me, tell me
You are my twin, in coldness and the dark
Entwined, we breathe slowly in silence
Words have flowed like the tears of the past
I hold on, in love, in desperation, in ecstasy
I caress her hair, and whisper be mine
Forever
Then I awoke, another sad day
Winter winds whisper in the weeping willow tree
Its naked branches shiver silently all around me
Bitter biting winds howl around stinging my face
I’m out on the moors; it’s such a desolate place
I yearn for spring where dainty daffodils dance
on zephyr breeze, it’s such a sweet romance
Sultry summer skies bring warm winds to enthrall
Beautiful blossoms pirouette perfectly as they fall
Autumn brings blustery gales swirling all around
Rich russet leaves tumble, carpeting the ground
Terrifying tornadoes wreak havoc across some lands
In wake of its destruction not a building still stands
Cooling summer breezes or a blustery gale is blowing
We can’t see wind but its effect in the trees is showing
2nd place in Elements Part 2 Wind. Sponsored by Brian Davey judged 3/29/16
Submitted to second place contest sponsored by Laura Loo
03~19~16
Notus comes creeping furtively from the south
hot and bothered from the blazing summer sun.
The wind of change...concealed it launches sudden storms
as clouds pile up across the sky, dark and towering,
lightning flashes, thunder drawls, torrential rain descends;
rivers swell to bursting point; fields are swamped, crops destroyed.
Then once again he sneaks away, planning his next move.
His neighbour, Eurus, wants to show he’s no less able.
Bearing his inverted earthen vase he goes along
clumsy in gait and spilling water on dry soil.
His forays from the east tend to be unlucky.
Autumn fades with a sigh on Aura’s gentle wings
as ice-cold winter rushes in impatiently
from northern frozen lands to take its place
goaded by the domineering force of Boreas
who moves ahead with strong, intense authority,
his violent temper uncontrolled. Despite his age
he pushes his galloping stallion to the limit
riding forth relentlessly, cloak billowing behind,
his white beard curled; shaggy hair spiked and frosted.
Roaring, across the land he speeds with utmost haste,
a sacred conch shell grasped firmly in steely hand;
tremendous power he exerts and blows aloud
while humans cower in dark caverns, shivering.
They know his moods and fear his devastating wrath.
In their minds, princess Oreithyia’s forced abduction,
rape, and carnal satisfaction are still fresh.
They yearn for winter’s bitter ally to move on
so that the gentle Zephyr enters from the west
bringing with him rainbows and showers of spring,
calm serenity, greenery, flowers, shades and hues,
romantic feelings, fiery passion and intense love.
Ultimately, all four have to heed and appease
King Aeolus, firm ruler and keeper of the winds.
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*Aura = breeze goddess
*Oreithyia = mountain Nymph
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18th December 2014
Contest: Gods of Winds
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Placed: 2nd
Thirsting, thirsting. . . shriveled earth
suffocates in summer’s dearth,
yearns for rain clouds’ forthwith bursting:
Shriveled earth. . . thirsting, thirsting.
Browning, browning in their beds,
flowers parched hang low their heads.
Daffodils once bright are frowning
in their beds, browning, browning.
Dying, dying – every field,
withering, to fate must yield.
All the world is sadly crying,
every field – dying, dying.
.
Whirling, whirling, comes a wind
arid and undisciplined.
Stagnant heat, pent-up – unfurling,
comes a wind, whirling, whirling.
Whipping, whipping through each plain
(while ignored are prayers for rain),
final blows come swiftly ripping
through each plain, whipping, whipping.
Burning, burning. . . August’s lust
leaves us nothing but the dust.
To dust we soon may be returning:
August’s lust – burning. . . . burning.
An oldie poem of mine that fits my feelings on how the earth
is responding to mankind's disobedience. I hope the world
awakens to the evil around us in time to negate this fate.
For Unseeking Seeker's 'Soul Betrayal ' Contest