Wind Poem by >Starr Williams<
Wind
Wind is an audible whisper,
It’s a secret, and it’s a laugh,
Murmured through the timeless trees,
From ancient ages past.
It sometimes calls through blackest night
For the owl to hoot and scream,
It plays a haunting winter flute,
In the meadow near the stream.
Piping little melodies,
Endless, haunting, long,
And when you think you’ve finally caught them,
In a moment they are gone.
A beautiful.lyrical write.This one deserves to be remembered. Kindest regards, Sandra
Wow. Great job, and I love the 'haunting winter flute.' Keep up the good work!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 9:25:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
YOUR DICTION AS TO YOUR CHOICE OF WORDAGE IS QUITE IMPRESSIVE...EACH LINE EVENLOWS W/ THE NEXT.ONCE AGAIN I MUST MAKE NOTE OF YOUR ASTUTE ATTENTION TO IMAGERY...IN ALL.THIS IS ANOTHER WINNER, STARR(BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND THE MOTIVE BEHIND THE NAME) ''''''''''''''''''''''''''''FRANK/FJR''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''