‘The Wind and I’ by Sarah Omanson

When I was small, age two or three

The wind began to play with me.

It sang a song to my ear –

“Come here, come here, my little dear.”

Its breath was scented like a rose.

It made me laugh, tickled my nose.

And then right along as I grew

The wind and I found things to do.

I would run like a little deer,

And the wind would sing, “I’m here, here,”

And blow and blow about my hair.

The wind and I made quite a pair.

Now I am old and not quite spry.

Still I love the wind from the sky.

I like to walk, but I must rest.

The lovely wind comes from the west

And sings to me, “I’ll help you more,”

Then blows me gently to my door.

Sarah Omanson