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Swirling the breeze buckled her knees,
the forests too dense with lush trees.
Boy, howdy, she yielded with ease.
Dancing the wind knocked once … again,
pirouetting with ev’ry man—
as only the wayward winds can.
The air, precariously, flopped—
ordered movement to cease, it stopped.
Here and there an air pocket popped.
Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat, she switched
into a churning, possessive witch—
had to seek cover in a ditch!
Twirling, the breeze danced, flopped, popped,
monstrously dipping down, tail whirling,
until her fury tamed. She purred, curling.
A caress or punch … she’s but air
though you’ll find her everywhere.
Once unharnessed … please do use care.
Swirling the breeze can rule with ease
or pirouette softly through trees.
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