Musing: The Wind

How cold it is tonight
With very little warmth
The frogs are happy outside
They all had started their choir procession
Singing with all croaky voices
Dancing to the rhythm of it
The wind blows heavily
It has gripped the night
And her cousin, cold
Enjoys the evening ride
With her ice cold fingers
They sent shivers across
The lengths of the Earth
Throwing up straying debris
Pushing dusts and sands
Pulling our dresses
And rushing about savagely
I forgive you though
You carried my hat away

Oiroegbu Halls

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