The wind The wind is a free spirit, Rushing through the fields and the trees, A force that cannot be contained, A power that cannot be seized. It whispers secrets in your ear, And carries scents from far and near, It dances through the air with grace, Leaving its trace on every place. It tugs at your hair and clothes, And stirs the dust from where it blows, It howls like a banshee in the night, And sings like a lullaby at first light. The wind is a thing of beauty, An elemental force of nature, It bends and twists and turns with ease, A never-ending symphony of pleasure. So when the wind is blowing strong, Embrace its power and its song, For in its wake, you'll find delight, And a sense of wonder at the sight. Juliette Cros
