The warm winds touch the troubled trees
To bless them with beatific breeze.
This sends the branches softly swaying,
In silhouette, like nuns all praying.
They blow down every silent street,
But fear no stranger they may meet.
They haunt, but not like ghost, who’s gliding;
As royalty, proud winds go riding!
The winds sometimes will hold their breath,
Like damned, before their date with death.
They mock the midnight moon by howling,
Pursue their prey as panther prowling.
On silent seas they stir a storm,
So sailors sleeping safe and warm
Will rise, from fear, and feign devotion,
To seek the Lord of winds and ocean.
The fresh winds kiss my fevered face.
Upon my troubled brow they place
Cool fingers, Heaven’s bliss bestowing,
Unconsciously, without their knowing!
- Author: Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: August 10th, 2019 05:02
- Comment from author about the poem: a nature poem
- Category: Nature
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Comments3
Kevin,
An exquisite relatable poem that will brighten my day! I immediately knew it when I read these powerful words...
“The fresh winds kiss my fevered face.
Upon my troubled brow they place
Cool fingers, Heaven’s bliss bestowing,
Unconsciously, without their knowing!”
Thank you for sharing your mighty pen!
~Laura~
Thank you Laura, I really appreciate your kind comments and feedback. You have given me encouragement to go on pouring out my heart and pushing my pen. Again, many thanks. 😊
Reading your work is a pleasure!
Have a wonderful weekend with your goddess!
Hi Kevin,
A great write.
Nature has a timeless beauty and character all it's own.
You have portrayed this beautifully in your poem.
Keep writing
FineB
Many thanks, FineB, I truly appreciate your feedback and kind comments. You have encouraged me to keep pushing my pen and pouring out my heart. 😊
Nature at is wonderful best can give us all the glory that you have shown in your words.
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