Dan Reynolds (Justiceville)
A sonnet on the wind's promises.
The wind brought me a present yesterday,
a scent it carried for three hundred miles.
It brought the ozone's hue from Sanna Bay
and stirred a pot of thought that so beguiles
and conjures up the past with abject ease,
as if time skipped upon the childhood rope.
Atlantic salt and sand so surely please
each blessed visitor they filled with hope.
The wind blew from the North in Summertime
and though it cooled the ardour on the ground,
It brought that thought that some would call sublime
a memory of love that few have found.
The wind brought me a present yesterday
a timeless beauty, trapped in its bouquet.
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