My breeze
Is the one you feel
Lingering cold in the morning
The soft caress in the trees
The one playing with the leaves
Shaping the clouds
And fighting with the birds
My breeze
Is the one battling
With you on a cold winters day
The one whipping your face
With creamy white snow flakes
My breeze
Is the one playing
With the sand corns on the shore
And messing with your hair while
You’re watching the horizon
And the twilight fades away
My breeze
Is the one whining
Outside your window while the war
Between the heavenly skies and earth
Is being fought
My breeze
Is the one you see
Yanking of your roof
And pulling up the trees
To throw them on your car
My breeze
Is the coldhearted one you feel
After the tornado has passed
And the only thing you have left
Is the air you breathe
My breeze
Puts the clouds on the sky
My breeze
Makes the butterflies fly
My breeze
Gives you shivers down your spine
My breeze
Gives you comfort while you cry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully worded, good metaphor. An altogether lovely read.; D