Charles Hill

(Villa Rica, GA, USA)

Whispering Wind - Poem by Charles Hill

Soft winds knead the grass,
Like bakers kneading dough,
blowing gently alas,
Hugging the grass low. Leaves rustling in the wind,
Creating an impeccable tune,
While tree limbs slightly bend,
Gentle as a harvest moon. I walk through towering pines,
Hearing whispering wind blow,
Music so soft and fine,
Generating a grand symphonic show. Never stop whispering to the ear.
Blow soft don't squall.
Just keep blowing near,
Bringing joy to all.


Comments about Whispering Wind by Charles Hill

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: music, wind, tree, moon, joy



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 2, 2003



[Report Error]