Sweetly The Wind Blew

sweetly the wind blew,
gently from the west,
the end of august,
unlike the rest.

fragrant and inviting
fulfilling a need,
once repressed,
it was freed.

storming my heart,
like a thunder,
storming my mind,
consuming my wonder.

til the north wind
hard did blow
where it led her
i do not know.

soon the winter
will have run its course
i wait for her
without remorse

only time will tell
if i wait in vain
i look to the south
to forget the pain

-- I.R. Shackleford