THE GUSTY WIND
The gusty wind sent leaves off in a flurry,
Across gardens, streets, fields all in a hurry,
Each wanting to be first to find some rest,
Tucked up warm, not being caught is the test.
They seem to laugh as the wind blows hard,
Escaping even from many a big back yard.
And those racked run reckless and all free,
Sometimes to be a leave would fill me with glee
To frolic and dance and skip and run without a care,
Being free to twist and swirl about free as the cool air,
No great responsibility, no concern at all of any kind,
Nothing but to skip and dance and the wind on my mind.
Just for a short while be a fallen leave, maybe a single day,
No longer would I want to prance and be tossed that way,
But as I watch the fun those leaves having so much fun,
And I have to get on with life with all the work to be done.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson 20 October 2004