Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The Windmill

Her big white blades
move ever so slowly
with the whispering wind
the blades spin around
the windmill is alive
forever with birds
nestling within
her stone body
ever so gracefully around she goes
like a ballet dancer
on her toes
people come from many miles
just to look upon
her gracious soul
alone she sits
thinking to herself
many years have I stood
my arms made of wood
ready to be swung
whenever my friend the wind comes.

"Wars May Come and Wars May Go But Art Is Forever."

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