Heart Of The Matter
The Breeze
I sit and watch the breeze pass by,
Invisible to the naked eye,
The trees, a tell tale giveaway,
And with the breeze, they dance and sway,
The trees they dance to winter's tune,
Watched from above by silver moon,
An audience of twinkling stars,
Go all the way to planet Mars,
The trees perform a curtain call,
And gain applause by one and all,
They take a bow; they sway again,
The breeze now followed by the rain.
Linda Harnett, ©2006
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The Breeze
The Breeze
