Fickle Winds of Fate
The fickle winds of fate,
blow of late, my dear, of late.
They are at the gate, my dear,
those fickle winds, at the gate.
You may have heard them coming,
or hoped they would be gone.
You may have dreamed their whispers,
you may have heard their song.
But the winds do not obey our thoughts,
only they know where they belong.
I would not tempt the evil ones,
waiting in the sidelines so long.
For the fires along the watchtower,
have picked up the winds of late.
Sighs winds make in the trees,
foretell forever's fate.
Copyright 2017 © Ronald W. Hull
4/12/17
View this poem on my website here.
Always,
Deborah
I'm scaring myself to death!
Love ya!
Jane
or hoped the would be gone"
That's my hope for fickle wind,go away!
Regis
Rebecca
David
Reminds me of Shades of the Sirens - beckoning wayward
Argonauts toward destruction upon the dagerous shoals.
Not unlike a Landlubbers' version of same. Eerily haunting.
Title also brought to mind the old Rowan & Martin Show -
A parody of their "Fickle Fingers of Fate" !
Never ever - throw Caution to the Wind !
Be Wary of the uncontrollable Forces of Nature ?
As I said - Pensive, Reflective, or Musing !
Peace, my Friend ... ✌️ 😎