Regulating incessant draughts of fresh air,
revolving in circular clockwise journeys,
tapered blades riveted to oval bodied bearing,
suspended from a jugglery of plastic wire,
firmly secured to an overhead iron hook,
with flower petal carvings sewn to wing,
evacuating stale air with scent of congestion,
revitalizing individuals, drenched in pools of summer exhaustion,
driving away hordes of buzzing flies,
eliminating seeds of epidemic by fumigating air,
filtering atmosphere obscured with coats of dust,
an inevitable commodity in scorching summer,
equally essential in sedate chills of approaching winter,
feeding drained nostrils with pouches of surplus air,
extracting moisture from wet cloth,
prompting sheets of paper to fly haphazardly,
shredding to minuscule pieces large objects in close proximity,
rotating at whirlwind speed, at mere caress of switchboard plastic,
dancing to supplied currents of electricity,
is my sea green colored, room ceiling fan
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