The Wind

I think you can guess how I was disturbed last night, and where this came from. It’s a quick effort, before the rigours of the day. I hope you like it.

It whistles, the wind, such a
Mournful sound,
And passes through curtains
Where nightmares be bound.

Dark pictures, it brings, with a
Forceful blow,
And turns peaceful slumber
To frightful tableau.

It screeches, the wind, such a
Fearful howl,
And changes sweet dreaming
To something more foul.

Dark letters, it sends, with an
Evil hand,
And shows to the dreamer
Such terrible lands.

It hammers, the wind, such a
Final force,
And batters at windows
As an unbroken horse.

Disturbing, it’s voice, with such
Chilling speech,
Heart freezing promises
Eager to preach.

It whistles, the wind, such a
Devilish sprite,
Disturbing the sleeping,
In the depths of the night.

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5 Responses to The Wind

  1. The nightmare that never leaves! This is a very evocative piece – could be the creative juices bubbling up desperate for release!

    • Simon says:

      Thank you Chris. All I know is, I was woken up at stupid o’clock this morning, and this came out of it!

  2. I really like storms. There’s something so powerful in the wildness released in nature that moves me. Maybe not in the middle of the night though!

  3. Dark and perfect. Perfectly dark.

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