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Poems About: WIND

In this page, poems on / about “wind” are listed.

  • 25.
    This Wind

    This wind it howls, this wind it moans,
    A mournful eerie sound.

    This wind gathers fallen autumnal leaves, read more »

    Ray Clune
  • 26.
    the wind

    the wind...
    i love the way the wind blows through my hair when im on the swing.
    the wind...
    i love it when you rake the leaves then the wind blows and there everywhere read more »

    courtney hicks
  • 27.
    When the wind sighs

    When the wind sighs
    When the wind sighs
    The blind-fold statue sings
    The faces of the skies are dark read more »

    Emmanuel George Cefai
  • 28.
    A Whisper

    As he whispers a secret in her ear
    the wind grabs the whisper and
    carries around the world
    only the wind decides where read more »

    Aiyanna Ortiz
  • 29.

    One day a swarm of mosquitoes complained to God

    “Lord God we must protest! ” read more »

    Ray Lucero
  • 30.

    My whole age has gone with the wind Because I couldn't activate it well, My whole days and nights have gone with the wind Because I couldn't benefit from them well, My whole money has gone with wind Because I couldn't use it well, My whole poems have gone with the wind Because I couldn't convince my readers to read them well, read more »

  • 31.
    Cowboy Haiku Two

    COWBOY Haiku Two
    The wind with someone in it read more »

    Charles Hice
  • 32.
    The Vine Winding You in the Dream

    The vine winding at wall top
    Dangled serenely the yearning
    Hundred leaves of vine look afar of the night sky
    Thousands stars read more »

    DePen Chang
  • 33.

    read more »

    Elia Michael
  • 34.
    Wind Horse

    Da naho… It is said,
    Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
    Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
    Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give; read more »

    Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
  • 35.
    The Piper On The Hills

    There sits a piper on the hill
    Who pipes the livelong day,
    And when he pipes both loud and shrill, read more »

    Dora Sigerson Shorter
  • 36.
    The Wind

    I felt the blowing of the wind
    As it entered my breadth from deep within
    It entered my soul, and then wouldn't let go
    It is the wind, from whence life begins. read more »

    Randy McClave
[Hata Bildir]