Saturday, October 28, 2006


Sometimes the wind is hot and dry
And at night it blows a deadly chill.
No matter how far I venture or try,
I cannot see beyond that little hill,
So I ask the wind if it dared to pry
Whether you're thinking of me still
It wraps me in hope, myth and wry
I wonder if it does the truth conceal

Is it your heartbeat that I often hear,
When the city clamour faint and cease?
Sometimes the soft whisper in my ear
Brings me comfort and a happy lease
When the sun comes out and skies clear
I can hear the busy banter of the trees
As the wind takes away a lonely tear
With a secret promise across the seas

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