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  • dianeneilson

The gift of a breeze: a poem

The summer winds, they bode no ill

They bring no cold your bones to chill


A gentle breeze, a warm caress

The briefest breath, a welcome guest

A playful hand running through your hair

To make you feel without a care

A rippling, tickling, fleeting touch

There to feel but leaves no smutch

It's warm, yet cooling, on your skin

A soft embrace  to sink therein


But after the dip of the late summer sun

You may well think the breeze has gone

A chill arrives to take its place

To whip your hair and slap your face

To bend the boughs and churn the seas

As wild, as gentle is the breeze

But sure as earth is slowly turning

Next year the breeze will be returning


For summer winds they bode no ill

They bring just warmth your heart to fill

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