The Whisper of the Wind

Hello, lovelies,

It’s been a while. 😦 My laptop decided to crash and burn, a fiery, dripping pulpy, mess of viruses, hard drive malfunctions, and other wonderful oddities and frustrations bestowed upon the tech world of modern advancement. Soooo … that’s where I’ve been ’til now.

Things are back online, and thankfully nothing of value was lost. I’m sorry to those whose prose I promised to look at. I will get on that promptly! In the meantime, to make up for the lack of whiny posts about how much I hate writing, enjoy a poem!

 

The Whisper of the Wind

E.E. Blake

 

Please tell me which way

The wind blows as

It whispers to and fro.

 

The trees all hiss

As they stand unwillingly

In a gale of frantic bliss.

 

A chime draws out—

A hollow clang as

The instrument is struck.

 

Speak to me, oh Whispered Wind—

Make my mind a tumble weed—

And blow away my doubt.

 

Distraction is my mortal sin

It dines with the Fog of Mind.

The pen is said to be a sword—

But all I grasp is din.

 

Peaceful wind, what do you say

As you whisper to and fro?

 

The wasps all hum

As they guard their queen

While she oversees her sons.

 

A chime draws out—

A hollow clang as

The instrument is struck.

 

Come sit with me

Oh Whispered Wind

And carry me far, far, away.

 

Two mourning doves

Perch atop a false barn’s edge

Pecking at some seed.

 

One takes a graceful drop inside—

Where the barn roof should be.

 

A hoot and flutter

Its lover stands guard

Atop the false hay loft.

 

When all is clear but for

the Whispered Wind

inside, he too, drops in.

 

Rotund little doves—

They dine like nobles

A feast for lords and ladies.

 

Then one pops out

And takes his post

While his happy queen

Feasts on.

 

There they rest now

Atop the false barn—

A survey of the yard.

 

Then as she preens

Her man takes charge—

“This is my loft” he must think

 

An ironic sight

While his wife claims

Solitude in the branches

Higher up.

 

Little doves, do tell now—

Which way does the wind blow

As it whispers to and fro?

 

Come speak to me—

Oh Whispered Wind—

And carry me to the place

Where I do not wish to go.

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