Monday, 4 February 2008

The Wind



The beast from the East took my breath, but then ceased
when I ran towards the best from the Wast;
it was there that I met and I'll never regret
the Mouth from the South and his guest.

The North would be fourth, I'd be lying of course
if I said He was less than a blast;
We weather the storms from all headings, all forms
but that Old Man's the first and the last.

No comments: