Another poem, also related to weather. I am nothing if not consistent.
The moon – a glorious and distant thing.
The moon struck me by its beauty on a crisp winter night,
And he gave me moonbeams in exchange for my lullabies.
But the moon, ever-waxing, ever-waning,
The ever-inconstant moon
Left me one night to the cold and the dark.
The wind – such a fickle, wild thing.
The wind swept me off my feet one bright spring morn,
And carried me gently to distant, glistening shores.
But the wind changes, as they say,
And the once-gentle wind
Raged away, leaving me to the silence.
The sun – a fierce, a passionate thing.
The sun kissed me goodbye on a warm summer evening,
As it sank down below the horizon. “I’ll return for you,” the kiss promised.
And the sun, loyal and loving,
And so bursting with life,
Kissed me in greeting when the dawn came.