Tag Archives: poems about the wind

Out of Tune

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As I sat composing poetry

On a windswept afternoon

In the garden.

I heard all the windchimes

Sounding out of tune.

And then came the rain

To mock me

And my poetry.

Doors Bang on Winter Nights

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Doors bang

On winter nights.

Something clangs.

 

 

The brightest light

Must fade and die.

And tonight I

Hear the wild wind’s

Great  impersonal roar.

 

 

And when the doors

Bang and slam

I know I am

Just windblown dust.

 

 

Aeolus

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In this temple, open to the air,

I feel you everywhere.

These Doric Columns speak of our yesterday.

But you will stay

When I and they

Are but clay.

 

 

These ancient Yew

And Redwood trees

Have heard wind sing

Over long centuries.

But your cold blast

Will outlast the Yew.

 

—

 

This poem stems from a visit to the temple of Aeolus in Kew Gardens with my friend Brian on 29 September 2023. You can find out a little about the temple here, https://www.kew.org/kew-gardens/whats-in-the-gardens/woodland-garden-and-temple-of-aeolus.