The Breeze

The wind it stopped to say hello
A gentle breeze upon my face,
I answered back with much do tack
“Thank you for this place”

I told the trees of all I pleased
And they listened with due consent,
They told me tales, of which I wailed,
“You must be heaven sent!”

With sudden grasp I helped the grass to wave at passers by
They thanked me though their much too low
To face them eye to eye.

I’ve laughed at jokes made by some folks
Whom I really didn’t know,
But nature seems much more serene
So that’s just where I’ll go.