Willow Wind
Forbes Farmer

          
            What tender pause impending air

            Wherries sway in warm breeze fair

            Wiselings blast in thunderous despair

            Wait resting foes in darkened lair

            Of tempestuous dialectics in repair

            To full moons softly waning

             

            Wanton tempest of disordered soul

            Wiskets hold obstructions to the windy knoll

            Witherlings conjoined in interference toll

            Wage with whinyard arms control

            From emptiness divisive thunders roll

            And watch irreverent salvo waking

             

            Webs of joyful honest hue

            Wagons move the wailing blue

            Wheels breathe blithely rapture’s value

            Wearing merriment and rainbow issue

            As memories piqued roar smiling through

            Except lovers’ animated wailing

             

            Willows flexing zephyr free

            Winkle from cacophony

            Winged symphonies melt acerbity

            Whisper tranquil thoughts acuity

            When friends embrace affinity

            What serenity lies weighing?

             

            Workers scatter voiceless needs

            Weep as quiet catkin bleeds

            Wafting silky hair recedes

            Watch the slumberous downy seeds

            Ride the wind to soil and reeds

            If wanderers stop walking

             

            Walls of combs with glue from earth

            White pollen rings the sounds of birth

            Weaving roots of cloistered girth

            Watchful promises of worth

            Reigning over yielding mirth

            What consciousness lies waiting?

             

            Water feeds the fruits of late

            Whistling rides on nature’s freight

            Wink to dry the tears of hate

            Wrongly tied to stigma’s gate

            Worry not as sweethearts mate

            As canons go abating

             

            Writs of sovereign powers could

            Wrench passion nectar from the good

            Wring spirit where the soul once stood

            Witness ashes on the wood

            Blowing freely as they should

            As miasmic airs evaporate

             

            Wasteful years of those who be

            Willful shadows of humility

            While seers hide within the lee

            Wise ones chant the rule of three

            And cheer the unpredictability

            And willow wind of freedom