All day long I sit on the limb of a withering old oak tree <br />'Loft caverns of clouds and sterling shrouds <br />I watch till the Sunlight's wee <br /> <br />Peaceful and simple, Morning and me <br />Cerulean wimple, the Sky wears she <br />Vermillion cheeks that glow when she's shy <br />But never have I, seen the Wind go by <br /> <br />And both her children, Gust and Gale <br />Blow upon a seafarer's sail <br />And rise 'neath the wings of a bird on the fly <br />And all day long I sit on the limb of a withering old oak tree <br />And wonder why <br /> <br />In silk and in angels the motion is sweet <br />And Wind wound right leads dancingly so <br />But lifting the Autumn to her tiny feet <br />Is the Wind I've yet to know <br /> <br />Shade, she sleeps somber in silvern a shadow <br />And Light, she leaps in gentle glow <br />But the ghost who embraces as seeds are sown <br />Is the wind I've never known <br /> <br />The echoes of Night rest still by my side <br />And Light, now lambent, flickers and flies <br />Though she who walks in dusky disguise <br />Is she, the Wind, blowin' by<br /><br />Tyler Mason<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wind-10/
