The Whistling Wind
Whistling Wind …
Sweet whistling,
like the sound,
when an organ plays,
games with the whistling wind,
on windy days.
The wind softly whistles,
through tree tops
and mildly plays with my hair,
as I walk along reminding me of an old love song.
On stormy days,
it seems to be angry
and the whistling,
turns to howls,
as the wind shrieks along.
I like it best,
down by the riverside,
as it makes ripples upon the water
and gulls dance on the waves.
They go flowing along with the river
and the wind gently whistles,
a traveling tune,
as the gulls are joined by ducks and geese.
I love to listen to the wind,
as it blows in the night,
all the fragrant scents are so much stronger,
in the dark and last much longer.
It reminds me of times so long ago,
playing with my memories,
when I hear a certain tune,
under the full moon.
Love to go down the road,
just the whistling wind and me,
enjoying being fancy-free,
doing a nice two-step along the way.
Nothing could be finer,
than a tuneful whistling wind,
would love to learn that melody –
it certainly seems to speak just to me.
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I love the wind, the sound of it, the feel of it, to watch the trees sway to it. You express the nature of wind and its effects in a lovely way, Rasma. Very nicely penned verse. I love the image you chose. I recently used that for one of my poems – it is so pretty.
Thank you, Phyllis. Yes, that image seemed just right for this.
Nicely penned Rasma, enjoyed it. Cheers!
Thank you, Tony.
Nicely penned Rasma. I always get that kid at heart feeling when I’m in tune with the wind. That innocent youth feeling, I don’t know may be it’s just me. Nice work.
Thank you, Paul. The wind has often got me wanting to dance along.