Created 7.13.03

Iambic Pentameter- One of my earliest poems

Wind


When the wind travels through the leaves it cries

With a mournful and melancholy voice,

Wanting to soar up high in the heavens

Pushing feathery soft clouds in its wake

Carrying birds flying high in the air

Roaring by mountain peaks scraping the sky.

But earthbound it wanders by leaf and dale

Lifting up leaves over silvery lake

Making tree's leaves show their undersides pale

Moaning through familiar land again.