Gentle the wind blows
Rustling the leaves
Incites a chorus of soft protests
An audible hush from
Close bushes that weave
Amongst themselves
Silencing both the leaves
And the quiet laugh of the wind
Gentle the wind blows
It tangles my hair
Wild strands that dance
To the beat of the wind
To the rhythm of my fingers
Taping the wooden bench
Then the song of the wind
Quietens to a stop
And the melody of taps
Continue on alone
Inviting the next song
Gentle the wind blows
I lift my head from
Mountains of paper
That threaten to run
Fleeing with the wind
I open my arms to embrace
The hug of the warm winds
Gentle the wind blows
Calming my soul
Rivers of springwater
Cleansing my heart
It blows so gently
So lovingly so gentle
Stroking the earth
With its hand of gold
Gentle the wind blows
Whistling in my favourite place
Grassy open fields
Where flowers sway
Dancing in the breeze
Where trees whisper amongst
The rainbows of leaves
Red and gold plated carpets
Trail along dirt paths
Imprinting themselves in soil
Where the table waits
Worn with age yet sturdy
And there I close my eyes
Feeling it
Serenity in the place where
Gentle the wind blows
YOU ARE READING
Tears Of The Rose
PoetryA. Ton. Of. Random. Poems. Just warning you. The poem that inspired the title of this book: Tears of the Rose A rose Is a prickly thing Armed with barbed thorns Stinging like thousands of merciless Bees that hover protectively Over their prize. Rose...
