PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

and in the darkness

where the wind sleeps,

whispers were heard

from a restless breeze,

not quite enough to

rattle the shutters awake,

just enough to sway some

playful leaves into mischief,

or tease a windchimes song,

a giggle of a gust invites

the branches squeaking reply,

as the quiet night gains rhythm,

and birds twitch closer together,

(having lived this before,)

preparing for the winds howling

scold, knowing its fury will wake

even the darkness, and sleep

will be but a memory, and peace

but a prayer, till slumber once again

calms the wind, and whispers

fall silent, in the bright of morning.