There's nothing in the night like the sound of the wind

When all the land is in repose

There is a noise, as nightfall shows,

A noise to stir the sinews of your mind.

And so, who hear it at its best,

(Who know its sound, as others rest)

May thank the lord, he made it for mankind.

She hums and blows her gentle breezes,

She comes and goes just as she pleases,

Purrs pastoral verses as her theme;

And when the twilight tones the air,

Then, striking strains are ever there

For one an' all who worship her esteem.

Her voice caresses mighty trees,

And bends their limbs with awesome ease,

Oaks submit and beeches stand-a-quiver.

She stings their leaves when passing through,

The, sings a chorus, just for you,

A symphony so shrill it makes you shiver.

At times, if anger should prevail,

She tests her truth and blows a gale,

She proves the very essence of her skill.

She musters substance all around,

Her lusty bluster puffs, profound,

She punishes the ground with all her will.

But she deems it's daylight soon

So, she chants a discrete tune

And gifts a temperate ballad, gladly bright;

And when the storm departs the earth

She whistles warm for all she's worth;

There's no sound like the wind makes in the night.

                                                                                                                               ASJ