Blowin’ in the Wind

Back in Blighty, a gusty coastal wind accompanies most of the seasons. Many a time back in Southampton, I would get the glad rags on and straighten the barnett only to resemble a scarecrow moments later due to being battered by the windy weather. One day recently strong winds began unexpectedly billowing through the Swiss hills, inspiring me to pen the following poem. A few days later I stumbled upon this beautiful and Van Gogh inspired painting named “Il vento”  posted on LinkedIn by the talented Àgota Toth.
Wandering Wind
Unusual wind howling through the landscape

Pure inertia running through my veins

No hot rooms, I hit the hills and escape

Only feel myself when no-one’s pulling on my reigns
Eyes stream down, the gusts begin to rumble

My ears recall brisk walks along the beach

Crisp remains of autumn leaves now tumble

How curious the lessons that wayfaring winds can teach

Let me fly wherever my soul takes me

Travelling types like us cannot be tinned

It’s the freedom in myself that makes me

Gliding through this world, I am a wandering wind


2 thoughts on “Blowin’ in the Wind

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