A book of Rhymes - poems for the soul

Mother Nature

The wind is delicate on the northern sea

the breeze 

ripples through 

disrupting peace. 

I feel a brush of wind

push my hair beyond my eyes

clearing my vision from 

strips of gold,

stuck to my cheeks

with the drops of sea water that

drips from my eyes.

The wind dries my tears

brushes back my hair

and whispers gently to me

something no one else can hear

something I know is real.

~M.I. Perrins