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WINDSONGS
I have soared above the Redwoods in their youth
Touched tips of frosted frigid icy peaks
Lifted weary aching migratory wings
Swept through the oily tint of present day
Enraged the sea, drove ships upon the rocks
Becalmed the mariners upon dead waves
Caressed the vibrant hope of snowbound buds
Blew north an icy chill that still resides
Crept, in fog-like cape, through darkened streets
Swallowing the darkness of the night
Lifted into sunshine the billowing of clouds
Mussed the unkempt locks of playful youth
I have cooled the tears of red-hot passions
And rocked the empty cradles of your dreams
Copyright ©
John Lawless
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