I wanted to read this to you, so here is my sound recording
https://soundcloud.com/user-391664655/whispering-wind-a-norfolk-tale

Fragile pages, please do not bend!
When in a book, there is no hand to lend.
Do be careful, don't crack the spine!
Don't touch those, they are mine!

Each volume in treasure,
and it sure is my pleasure,
to read about every one!
(Of course they must weigh a ton!)

Novels; to disappear in.
Journals; letters from within.
Poems; to keep in your mind.
Books; with turns in the spotlight, all have shined.

Shards of sunlight
ignite the warm smooth lines
profile grace
concentration on the tiny smudgy
screen...arches her head back
on the rest
the clouds close the morning
curtain and the gritty grey
of spring returns
the glass glistens
intermittent wipers sweep
we follow the tail lights
commuter herd
urban streets
everything thumping through
the potholes
concrete and pedestrians
and vagrants young
and old couriers whisking
past like greyhounds
in livery colors

fly above my dark/dull
bald skull
it's now difficult
but to cull

old age devours us
gradually
yes
but surely

your poetry levels
soar
beyond where eagles
fly galore
and
by composing like you
I dare not bore
else for my aging malady
there is no cure

I step outside just at sunrise,
another damp warm southern day,
then turn my face toward gray skies
where clouds dance and tree tops sway.
Warm misty rain falls on my face.

I draw in a humid breath of air
closing my eyes to taste the wind .
Honey suckle's blooming everywhere
a smell I greet like an old friend.
A familiarity which I embrace.

Until the wheels fall off,
I could drive it
with rumbling, then sputtering engine
until the wheels fall off.

I hit a brick wall,
once or twice or a hundred times.

Was I arrogant?
I was assuredly foolish,
but I didn't think I was conceited.
I didn't think.

And so,
here we are.
If I didn't call or text my son
I'm pretty certain
I would never hear from him again,
and of my daughter I realized that
a long time ago.

You’re gazing long into a lady’s face,
a probing look to search out any flaw;
the mental picture you in secret draw,
compared to model queens of style and grace.
The slightest thing, a hair that’s out of place,
akin to breach of some unwritten law;
and so you see in viewing features raw
another outward sign of her disgrace.

I spied a Sylph upon a lily leaf
and watched her sail- a Captain on the sea.
She dared at speed the knife edge of the coral reef.
She fought the squall with laughter cold and free.

A lotus bloom her banner, spider’s in her lines,
their weavers by the dozen were her crew.
Her emerald gaze was sharper than the flashing tines
of Neptune’s triple scepter sea steel blue.

Whistling spills out
flows
into mine
the sound
groans
rumbling
like in preparation of a storm

this whistling entwines
with a writhing wild wind
that tears through years
and tears spring
into the warmth of a heart aching glow

this river of whistling
winding it's way
to depths unseen and unheard before

'Yes' whispers the whistler 's wild wind of home
I'll climb into this chamber of known

The key of success
is the gift of success.

Unlocking the doors of success
and revealing the new world of success.

It's a gift of nature
awarded by the Supreme being of nature

to a fortunate human being destined for success.

The key of success
is the everlasting gift of success.