Soothing winds creating the dins
That flow through the poplar leaves
Soaking up sun and having fun
With the worshiping by the trees
You hear the sigh up in the sky
As the wind goes everywhere
Stir the branches all big and small
With a whisper of clean fresh air
They bend and sway and seem to say
Glory to the one up above
Perched from flight and out of clear sight
Are the homes to the loving doves
© 2010-2011 Michael Yost
http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com/2012/01/poetry-picnic-week-22-spring-colors.html
