by FargoFansydney, New South Wales, Australia
Sep 2021 342 Views 2 comments
Strong Breeze on the Beaufort scale
No sound here
Of the sighing wind
Nor of the swaying trees.
A distant barking dog
Flying foxes wafting
In a gentle breeze.
But the house shifts
and doors creak,
a freight train trundles
cooking, dinner time lifts
the senses and far off
a horn toots
Of the sighing wind
Nor of the swaying trees.
A distant barking dog
Flying foxes wafting
In a gentle breeze.
But the house shifts
and doors creak,
a freight train trundles
cooking, dinner time lifts
the senses and far off
a horn toots
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2021
About this poem:
Early spring eveningPoems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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