Where Drifts The Breeze
Listen to JH reading his poem ...
Where drifts the breeze, there I would drift
To reel the threads of summer mist,
To fetch the scent of meadowsweet,
To rustle leaves and bend the wheat,
To skim the grass and brush the fur
Of little creatures lying there.
Where flies the wind, there I would fly
To chase the clouds, to climb the sky,
To lift the kites for eager hands
Above the hillsides and the sands,
To rush through trees and hear them sing,
To rest a time on raven’s wing.
Where roars the storm, there I would roar
Across the land to oceans’ shore,
To churn the waves and whip the spray
To drive the darkest thoughts away.
I’d ride the air, in any form,
Breeze or gale, gust or storm.
To reel the threads of summer mist,
To fetch the scent of meadowsweet,
To rustle leaves and bend the wheat,
To skim the grass and brush the fur
Of little creatures lying there.
Where flies the wind, there I would fly
To chase the clouds, to climb the sky,
To lift the kites for eager hands
Above the hillsides and the sands,
To rush through trees and hear them sing,
To rest a time on raven’s wing.
Where roars the storm, there I would roar
Across the land to oceans’ shore,
To churn the waves and whip the spray
To drive the darkest thoughts away.
I’d ride the air, in any form,
Breeze or gale, gust or storm.
This poem is copyright (©) J H Rice 2024
About the Writer
J H Rice
J H Rice writes poems. Sometimes he does this on purpose but a lot of the time poetry just seems happen to him. He used to worry about this but, since meeting lots of other poets, he has realised that it's perfectly normal. A lot of poems happen to him when he's walking his dog, Rosie.
