Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
In summer, the wind's warmth wraps around in a loving embrace,
A golden sun casts its radiant, gentle face.
But winter whispers bold tales of fierce, biting winds,
A dance of snowflakes on icy branches it rescinds.
Oh, the contrast of seasons! How I'm thrilled to see,
The vibrant summers and winters that set my soul free.
Each revealing a new chapter in nature's grand tale,
Excitement fills the air as they harmoniously prevail.
Poems About The Seasons
Poet: Catherine Pulsifer
Invisible and wild, the wind dances unseen,
Its gentle caress feels like a dream serene.
No eyes can witness its playful flight,
Yet its presence brings me sheer delight.
Just as the wind, God’s touch remains unseen,
A force so wondrous, vibrant, and keen.
With eager heart, I feel His divine grip,
Grateful for His love, forever equipped.
Christian Poems
by Oliver Wendell Holmes
I find the great thing in this world
Is not so much where we stand,
As in what direction we are moving.
To reach the port of Heaven,
We must sail sometimes with the wind
And sometimes against it,
But we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.
Poems Of Encouragement
Poet: Ralph Waldo Emerson
'Twas one of those charmed days
When the genius of God doth flow,
The wind may alter twenty ways,
A tempest cannot blow;
It may blow north, it still is warm;
Or south, it still is clear;
Or east, it smells like a clover farm;
Or west, no thunder fear.
Poet: Unknown
The wonderful air is over me,
And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree;
It walks on the water and whirls the mills.
And talks to itself on the tops of the hills.
The Oak Tree Poem
Poet: Unknown
Which is the wind that brings the cold?
The North Wind, and all the snow;
And the sheep will scamper into the fold
When the North begins to blow.
Which is the wind that brings the heat?
The South Wind, and corn will grow,
And peaches redden for you to eat,
When the South begins to below.
Which is the wind that brings the rain?
The East Wind, and farmers know
That cows come shivering up the lane
When the East begins to blow.
Which is the wind that brings the flowers?
The West Wind, and soft and low
The birdies sing in the summer hours
When the West begins to blow.
Winter Poems
Poet: Bayard Taylor
The Sea is a jovial comrade;
He laughs wherever he goes.
His merriment shines in the dimpling lines
That wrinkle his hale repose;
He lays himself down at the feet of the Sun,
And shakes all over with glee,
And the broad-backed billows fall faint on the shore,
In the mirth of the mighty Sea,
But the Wind is sad and restless,
And cursed with an inward pain;
You may hark as you will, by valley or hill,
But you hear him still complain,
fle wails on the barren mountains.
And shrieks on the wintry sea;
He sobs in the cedar, and moans in the pine,
And shudders all over the aspen-tree.
Welcome are both their voices,
And I know not which is best -
The laughter that slips from the Ocean's lips,
Or the comfortless Wind's unrest.
There's a pang in all rejoicing,
A joy in the heart of pain,
And the Wind that saddens, the Sea that gladdens,
Are singing- the selfsame strain!
Ocean Poems
Poet: Robert Louis Stevenson
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass-
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all-
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
Wind Quotes
Poet: Alice Cary
Talk to my heart, O winds -
Talk to my heart to-night;
My spirit always finds
With you a new delight -
Finds always new delight,
In your silver talk at night.
Give me your soft embrace
As you used to long ago,
In your shadowy trysting-place,
When you seemed to love me so -
When you sweetly kissed me so.
On the green hills, long ago.
Come up from your cool bed.
In the stilly twilight sea,
For the dearest hope lies dead
That was ever dear to me;
Come up from your cool bed,
And we'll talk about the dead.
Tell me, for oft you go,
Winds - lovely winds of night -
About the chambers low,
With sheets so dainty white,
If they sleep through all the night
In the beds so chill and white?
Talk to me, winds, and say
If in the grave be rest.
For, O! Life's little day
Is a weary one at best;
Talk to my heart and say
If Death will give me rest.
