Authors Note-The below work is my attempt to pen
a simple poem void of POE-etical twist & turns,
mystery & cryptics, not to mention Life, Death,
Horror, Creed or War, themes some say I have a
proclivity for. Nevertheless, change of pace is
a good thing and a part of Life & Dea...ooops,
Almost Blew it! Hoping you enjoy my little yarn.
FjR
___________________________________ ___
Carrying on the symphony of piping in soprano
Chasing sluggish footsteps by the narrows of an alley
Casting sprays of florals over cemetery shadows
Catching gray-stone cross tips resting peacefully in valleys
Whisping past the winter frozen ears of children playing
Wasting precious energy on children drifting snow
Writhing toes and fingers nary stop the young from staying
Whimsically enraptured by their snowman's carrot nose.
Feral on the Bering Sea when storm cloud thunder claps
Fruitful to the mastless sailboat stuck between old rocks
Fearful to the fishermen that dare the Flemish Caps
Fortunate, the thankful ones who make it back to dock
Who am I, Where am I
Watching you from open skies
With my cool August soothe
Which can change in one slight move
When my good turns bad in anger
Wishing I could halt my rancor
With my mix of Heaven and Hell
Weathermen can't help themselves
Weigh my grace against my sin
Why YES! I am The Wind! !
©Frank James Ryan Jr./FjR
2015- All Rights Reserved
The wind and its mercurial temper is beautifully painted on this poem. A 10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a fancy kind of poem, Frank...10+++++++