The Windmill Poem by Gerry Legister

Arms turning into a windmill
Around my body with intent.
Fingers plying their mistral toil
in an indulgence of a moment.

Through the ambiance, we ramble
With a gesture of leisure in the air
it gave love a chance to scramble
And hastily, open the gate of fear.

Heartbeat sobs, sighs, and murmur,
We share anxieties of night and day.
And the bloom that fades like a flower
Stay with the moon in the happy hour.

Wipe away the tears from your face
Make them flee away from sight,
And overflow into flowering silence
Rest and repose to know the respite.

Windmill hues stay with the moon
Time belongs to no country,
Play the tune until the golden dawn
moves its powers within proximity.