Her powdered cheeks
A gush of wind
Caused her to sneeze.
Tea and Prose
Her powdered cheeks
A gush of wind
Caused her to sneeze.
On a bloodied war field
A breeze of sand buries
The deserted bodies.
A beautiful face.
A gentle breeze.
Lightly kissed her cheek.
Then covered her blush
By blowing her soft curls
Over her face.
A fallen Autumn leaf swirled up in the air.
Slowly it drifted down the lane.
A graceful glide with the gentlest wind waves.
Day 63
The season has changed
It has begun to rain
Gusts of wind
Blow over the terrain
Rising dust in the air.
Darkness casts its shadow again
Hail thunderstorm
Here comes the rain
Pouring down all over again.
Day 36
Turning gusts of wind,
Changing in just a matter of time.
You were now pleasant,
a soft breeze in my hair,
and now I hear you howl,
Driving in wrathful rain.