Wind. Poem by Lizzy Tomlinson
Wind.
Rating: ★5.0
It's whistling here,
It's howling there,
Round the building,
Up the stair.
It's such a pity,
That it's night,
'Cause this fine wind,
Could fly my kite,
Instead, it's keeping
Me awake.
Stop blowing wind,
For goodness sake.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Topic(s) of this poem: wind
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8/7/2026 5:19:16 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
Breeze a jolly good fellow, Breeze a jolly good fellow. Join in Lizzy. (Couldn't resist!) Danny