Slight suggestions of vitality dance.
Luxuriant activity coolly blows
across fresh smiles and delicious whirlpools.
Breath of me, washing souls in other times,
energetic or lazily roaming
the smooth bones of past, present and future.
Schizophrenic wind am I, loftily
superior to breezy mood buildings,
destruction devours man's creation
in instantaneous shows of power.
Or I am gentle on your pastel skin,
mellow exhalation, heaven's whispers,
a spiritual presence which lifts hearts
into rippling beauty; leaves of love,
sweet perception's in eyes that swirl freedom.
I can uproot trees and toss them around
as if they were nothing but frightened twigs,
or move flower heads with passionate sighs
in wild gardens, fields full of colour, bright,
petals will shake with sensations given
while light laughter transverses evensong.
Nature's fine petticoats of ruffled earth
are guarded or exposed by my caprice,
I scratch waves upon seas as easily
as on a small pond's dimpled sereneness,
an invisible voice, a paradox,
for my actions are witnessed every day,
your feeble attempts to chain me will fail.































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s 


Very well








Maybe pink petticoat poetry. 



120 old applause
