“To Own a Breeze” by Nigel P Smith. I just had to share this, because even the title of this poem is fierce magic and I adore every word that follows….
To own a breeze
If I could, I would have my own breeze
with a soft song voice of hum and sigh
playfully weaving amongst the trees
as I by brackish beck in sun patch lie
lulled by stencil dancing shadow dots
and the swish of many tormented leaves
gently blown, releasing solar shots
of brief warming touch upon my sleeves.
I would send it off across this land
to sweep though dale and over plain
chivvying meadow and golden sand,
then with stolen sounds return again
to give me gifts of a firstborn’s cry
and of young love’s kiss parting lips,
the melting voice of a beauty shy
or a laughter burst from comic slips.
Such treasures in my heart I’ll keep
and savour as though a heady wine
while my breeze spoils senses deep
with scents of garlic wild and pine.
Then I would ask of my breeze
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