“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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