Ballad of the Wind

Ballad of the Wind

Everyday the stout wind,
Would kiss his darling on the cheek,
Beauty and life thrived with,
Melodious verses of love.

What a seemed a dream so sweet,
Faltered when the wind's love did not reply,
He wove through the crooked trees,
Flew throughout the hills and valleys.

All night he called out in dismay,
Hoping to hear her voice,
Weeping bitterly he shook the trees,
And in a violent rage he tragically killed the tender leaves.

They fell to the earth's floor and,
Withered like his broken heart,
The days grow shorter and dim.

The wind mourns the loss of his Summer and
Autumn is resurrected again.

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