ill Winds Blow
Even the darkest clouds eventually wave goodbye
ill Winds Blow
When ill winds blow, the skies turn gray,
Carrying whispers that steal the day.
The branches creak, the shutters groan,
A restless spirit claims its throne.
It sweeps through streets, both bold and shy,
A phantom howl, a mournful cry.
It stirs the waves, it bends the trees,
A shadow riding on the breeze.
But in its wake, though hearts may quake,
New seeds are sown, the earth will wake.
For even ill winds, fierce and wild,
Can clear the path for something mild.
So let it howl, let it moan,
For storms will pass, and winds have shown—
That after fury, skies will mend,
And gentle breezes will descend
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
So this is what real poetry looks like. Very captivating and full of emotion, this line works in poem and in story because of the visual it creates: 'The branches creak, the shutters groan,'
You are such a prolific poet. Have you considered compiling them in a book. Your poems are creative and inspirational.