The Whistling Wind


Sweet whistling

like the sound

when an organ plays

games with the whistling wind

on windy days


the wind softly whistles

through tree tops

and mildly plays with my hair

as I walk along reminding me of an old love song


on stormy days

it seems to be angry

and the whistling

turns to howls

as the wind shrieks along


I like it best

down by the riverside

as it makes ripples upon the water

and gulls alight on the waves


they go flowing along with the river

and the wind gently whistles

a traveling tune

as the gulls are joined by ducks and geese


I love to listen to the wind

as it blows in the night

all the fragrant scents are so much stronger

in the dark and last longer


it reminds me of times so long ago

playing with my memories

when I hear a certain tune

under the full moon


love to go down the road

just the whistling wind and me

enjoying being fancy-free

doing a nice two-step along the way


nothing could be finer

than a tuneful whistling wind

would love to learn that melody

it certainly seems to speak just to me



About Rasma R

I live in Riga, Latvia. I was born in N.Y.C. Love to write articles and poetry. Instruct people in the English language. Live in the suburbs with my husband Martin and my wonderful cat Sid. I love rock and roll, cooking, reading, poetry and traveling.
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4 Responses to The Whistling Wind

  1. SAN_jeet says:

    Good title and poem

  2. uniqusatya says:

    Lol whistling wind…..donno for what reason,the title rang in my head as flirting wind and when i read the poem..boom…what a match đŸ˜‰

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