--- winded ---

Hark, you foulest zephyr
You shall never tread before me
With your cutting hooves and hushings
Bringing chillings down their spines

Take what I'm throwing down
Dance with bolts of sapphire lightning
With their lazuli and amethyst
To lock your eyes with mine

And that, my dear companion
Is the reason why you're scarce
And why the birch forestry's grasses
Never lay or break or bend

A toughie? Break my thunder?
What a dolt, oh what a blunder
That you think that you can pass between
Reality and here

For we cut world from world
And we sewed it back together
Took a fleck of time and weather
For ourselves to have and hold

But the winds, they never stray here
And they cannot ever stay here
For we are not social beings
To the world which you call home

---
---
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What do you think? Is it "Poetry en Motion"-worthy?

It's about why the forest has no wind.

I know, it's kinda short, tell me if I should lengthen it.

But outside, a storm ahs been brewing and the wind is basically rumbling through the trees, I can feel it. If I don't post this now, I'll be gone for a while, until the storm passes.