An old windmill stands on a hill; <br />it once stood proud <br />as the wind swept round its sails. <br />Now deserted, <br />tattered and torn <br />a shell of its former self, <br />a relic of a bygone day. <br />A home now <br />where wild animals play <br />and lovers shelter <br />from a midnight storm. <br />Forlorn it looks down <br />from the hill, <br />ragged with a broken sail <br />that old windmill. <br /> <br />12 April 2008<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-old-windmill/
