I can't fall in love with a breeze,
never knowing which way
his hurricane will blow my heart,
as I'm already leaves on the wind.
Should I fall, gather me,
cradle gently seeds of my soul,
please don't sell them to the breeze.

What I really need is steady earth,
surely upon his own path,
there I can plant my feet
and safely grow blossoming leaves
of desired spring.
Then, should a heady breeze threaten me
his earth will take hold,
shelter me from scattering,
like leaves on the wind.

14/09/08

Viola Grey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/leaves-on-the-wind/