Silent it mutters
Voiceless it utters
Lonely it cries
Wingless it flies
Through trees it stills
But howls over hills
Long it howls
And low it growls
Roaming plain and grass
Over waters it may pass
Waking under moon
And winging into rune
Trees it may toss
But grieves no loss
Ever it may be
But never to see
Ivy, great ending... the wind has so much influence over everything it touches, but yet it can't be seen. Well done!
A certain innocence about this. I Love it! ! ! And you are so tallented.Love Duncan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Magnificent. After I read this I can picture the wind like I never thought possible.