Sunday, March 4, 2007

the wild wild wind and it's loverly whistles

Rush rush
the wind calls and beckons to me. join us, it says. where the very rustling of the trees are as magical as music in the air and the leaves dance to the sound of Spring.
Hurry Hurry
It grows anxious and cold as the season starts to change. leaving everything to hope for another year. Why can't things stay lovely and unchanged? Is it just a trick our minds play?
to late, to late
The wind leaves me alone and empty to no longer feel it's comfort until another day. Come Back dear wind. Return to the one you love so much!!
Wild, and untamed it moves on to scower streets and buildings, once more leaving something behind.


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