Wind And Rain

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Wind And Rain

Wind And Rain

Michelle Jene Vaughn

2003

 

                                  He was only nine years old,

How cold he stands in the rain.

Watching all the leaves that fell,

Down on his fathers grave.

With the tears that fell,

Blending with the rain.

HHhis mother turned to him,

To wash his tears away,

 

And she says,

 

“Son my son.

We’re all part of everything.

The sun the moon,

The wind and the rain,

So listen to the whistle,

Of the passing breeze,

Everything it has to tell us,

Everything you hear it say.”

 

And he heard

 

“Son my Son take care of your mom,

And your little sister,

As the days go along.

So when the wind starts to blow.

Don’t be afraid.

It’s just me, my son,

I’ll be blowing your way.”

 

Now he’s suddenly 22, as he stands under the maple tree.

Looking at a beauty of a wife soon to be.

And as he say’s I do,

And she says I do too.

You should have heard the leaves,

 

 

 

As the wind came rushing threw.

And suddenly he remembers

The sound of the passing breeze

Every thing it has to tell him

Everything he can hear it say.

 

And he heard

 

“Son my son take care of your wife,

And don’t worry about the children they will come later in life.

So when the rain starts to fall.

Go outside and play.

Cause I just want to wash all your blues away.”

 

Now he’s finally 73,

As he, stands there by her bed,

Listening to the raindrops,

Just threw the window ledge,

And softly she whispers,

As she, wipes his tears away,

How he should never worry,

She will be the breeze that blows his way,

And as the last breath left her,

he can still recall the words the wind had to say,

As she, floated off to the wind, and the rain.

 

And he heard

 

“Hun my Hun take care of your life,

And don’t worry about me darling, you will always have your wife,

So when the wind starts to blow. Don’t be afraid.

It’s just me I’ll be blowing your way.”

 

“And when the rain starts to fall,

Go out side and play, cause,

That’s where I’ll be waiting,

Yes that’s where I’ll be waiting,

That’s where I’ll be waiting for you my love

In the wind, and in the rain, Someday.”

                                             

In Loving Memory Of My Father

Arnold Eugene Vaughn

 

 

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laydbak1 commented on Wind And Rain

06-18-2009

A very tender and delicate piece that reflects on a life from early on until it's waning days... Hope and memories of loved ones transcend into the elements we find most calming to remind us of those we loved and miss very much... A good write

Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

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