The wind may roar; the wind may shriek,
In passing trees - a rustle.
But 'tis the sweetest sound I seek,
Wind flexing music's muscle.
The wind may moan or it may howl
In nights of stormy weather.
But I don't want wind on the prowl,
But tame, as on a tether.
I want wind playing on the cords
That on my porch are hanging,
To make sweet music there, with chords,
And set my chimes a'clanging.
the many voices of the wind.. a melody, sometimes, maybe - more often, a cacophony.. :) thanks for sharing, Dennis
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The poem has nice rhythm... good rhyming... and I could hear the wind. Full marks!
Thanks!