The Windmill

 

The wind wouldn’t ruffle the sails

the breeze did not disturb the works

the sun glistened sparkling on the roof

yet the cathartic hush could not be flushed.

The buzzards hovered high above

and nature blossomed on the ground

the harvest is gathered when crops are grown

cornfields spring forth all around.

Isn’t life like that for me,

and you, and others, that we see,

one moment we grow and prosper strong

but with one stroke the change to our song

wind is taken from our sails

live for tomorrow when all else fails.

 

 

28/7/02

Princess Risborough to Great Missenden