The Wind (A Poem)

The wind that blows the branches,

Of the tree you sit with,

Next to your love.

The wind that kisses a leaf,

Making it fall onto your open book.

The wind that strokes her face,

In a way you wish you could,

Maybe someday,


The wind that blows her hair,

Like an invisible admirer,

Mischievous and impersonal.

Strands of Asian-black,

Like tentacles reaching out,

Trying to touch what isn’t there,

But you are.

Although someday you won’t be.

Perhaps you’ll imitate the wind,

Be her invisible admirer,

Mischievous and personal;

Stroking her face,

The way you always wished you could.


Thanks for stopping by.

Please be a Superstar by Liking and Following. I aim to update my blog on a daily basis.



Published by Gavin Whyte

I am the author of the modern-day fables The Girl with the Green-Tinted Hair, and Happiness & Honey, plus several other works of fiction.

Please feel free to leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: