Winding On Windy Poem by Ailbhe Eighteen
Winding On Windy
Tell me not, I am stingy
That from your cup
I decline a sip
Notwithstanding thy sweet dark-reddish wine
True, 'tis a new in my plate
And the wind urges me hard to devour it
With a stronger appetite, I abled to defile
I adjure the wind and whoosh it go
But tell me not I am not stone-blind
Not stone-cold and not stone-faced
I can gracefully sway with the wind
But the trees, I will loose
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5/18/2024 10:01:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
