Wind Prelude Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Oh, wind prelude
You grow and you go,
Sometimes delude
Those that do not know.
Your beautiful sound
Loud and clear,
That comes around
When you are near.

Oh, wind high
So fresh and new,
In circling tie
That comes through.
You are far and near
In all your ways,
Always though here
In the coming days.

Oh, wind prelude
You are like I,
A murmur intrude
which must try.
A beautiful sound
to give and make,
and some have found
a pleasureful awake.