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The Wind Beware of the gentle breeze. It appears to be so placid as it speaks to us in mellifluous whipers. Its faintness is a mockery. Taunting us warmly, its placative tickles brush past our faces. A bitter cold embraces us. Its undercurrent winds around the trees, slowly in flirtation they arch. Orchestrating a wailing and brutish aria, it gusts without relent, and we disappear in its vortex. ©JT04 |
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Hi Mari, This is beautiful - it is so lovely to see your work again! I love the line and brutish aria, it gusts Describes it so well Emma  |
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Hi there Mari The wind can be so powerful, it can change lives in an instant, as your excellent poem reminds us |
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Hi Mari,
...nicely written....I like the way it builds up almost impercetively becoming the storm you are describing....well done. : )lb |
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Hi poets, thank you for reading and for your comments too, I appreciate it. Mari |
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