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The wind knows where I live

A polythene bag blew my way today,

Came tumbling along in a very strange way,

And there your name on a little tag,

Your telephone number, could I ring you back?


A coincidence, so some might think,

But why would the wind know where I live?

And why would it know that at half past three,

I'd be lazing about on a sunny beach?


The sun was high and the day was hot,

I'd just slipped off my see-through socks,

When a gust of wind from where I don’t know,

Wrapped your name and number around my toe.

Happy Thanksgiving Day Sonja

With all my very best wishes.

Your feast sounds fabulous.



© Joseph G Dawson
22/11/2018 and earlier


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