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by jack4daw


He North Wind


Caress me not

You bitter most

Of winds from arctic sky’s

Rain down your stinging blows

Faces cringe and turn away

Eyes running cold

Relentless gale

No pity do you show

 And comes the snow

That in your wake

Doth fly

 No food for bird or beast

As life stands still

To cover all the earth

And fill the sky and icy cold

To young and old

Brings ill

So as your mighty force

whips up the sea

Boreas in your southward rush

You have no friend in me.


© jack4daw 2011


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