If you hear
The sound of me,
You’ll discern
The wind I be,
As I expand
My fleeting
Helix spree,
Thus you’ll hear
The ireful tale,
Wants express
My indignation,
Though in excess
Of any disguise,
To echo best
A woeful tale,
That so bemoans
The boding fate
Of a dying wind!
Poetry on a canapé 
The sound and the fury of a vivid wind !
Beautiful poem
Alas, a soupçon peek at this author’s soul, and sometime bare-bone sentient disposition. JJF
Nostalgia is ever present…
It’s all about interpretation… and whatever tugs at what you lived, especially if the pictures are worth the keep! J J
I like your rich article. Super work. I hope you release others. I will carry on reading
Not to worry, I don’t plan on stopping as long as I’m breathing, and to support this, a new one just this minute got posted. JJF
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