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A Poetale: Night and the Wind

Flirty
Breezy wind of the south
Woo my candle light
Which danced like a mad man
She paint the wall
With the silhoutte of the light
Drawing pictures of many objects
Showing a magnified view of shapes
Scary and gigantic. Titanic!
The curtains are thrown up
At each blast from the wind
And her underwears revealed
The wind surged forward
Re-echoing the song of the Pine
Driving hard upon the street poles
And pulling the rooftops viciously
Making crazy men of the beer inn yell

And just outside, by the window
Dogs raced home to their forts
Even the trees knew some danger
The wind danced about the street road
Riding on newspapers and cellophane,
On every stray thing upon the Earth
She roamed about the street
Like a little hurricane
Upon the quiet fields of farms
And no one dared stand before her!

The grip of the quiet night,
Clouds which won’t rain
The firmaments when darkened
And the appearance of the wind
Upon which asunder came with
The dirt that flew into eyes
The songs of the Whistling Pine
And the disturbed roof tops
All tell this tale tonight…

A tale I love to write about