“I am The Wind!” My whispering Breeze echoes, ” I am here” Whooshing, whistling, lustily gusting Mysteriously surrounding the atmosphere I am a definite presence felt, but not seen Whipping and making restless nature’s green Often my capricious air soothes, effectuating calm Easing torrid oppression as would a healing balm
My family moved From Lincoln Heights, Ohio to Philadelphia. Pa. When I was fourteen years old; my Mother her young brother, 6 years older than me, my brother, a year and a month older, my sister eighteen months younger. My father was in the Military. I wrote my first poem at the age of 12. It was seven years later before I began to write again. I became involved with the International Society of Poetry in 1995. some of my of poetry was published in the local news paper, Phila. Daily news, phila. Sunday magazine. The National Library of Poetry.
On this earth’s breadth and width So many reside. All live, and die. Some brief, some bold. The history of humanity; God’s manuscript! The good, bad, and some extremely sad. Heroes, villains, and victims; Stories of ordinary, and extraordinary He
She pressed her ears to the ground- to feel the vibratos of his words. They tiptoed into her senses- barefoot bleeding tact on facts. Flustered with assumptions- they trampled a mockingbird! It raised its head unafraid- gasping for its last
My friend the Wind- is a lady who changes- Personas with every dress! You can hear her voice- go up and down with- every lapel and pleat! Chagrined about her coif- she turns into a dust devil. Ginned again with
I stand before you on the edge, A risen cliff above the ocean. Many times my life I’ve pledged, Followed the book and went through the motions. But you’ve forsaken me, my Lord. And I hear nothing but the wind.
Tonight’s wind is not the one found in the chimes of daylight Not the gentle breeze cooling your skin after a day’s labor And it’s not the invisible current lifting a child’s kite far above treetops This night the wind