The Wind That Chimes the Bells

The wind that chimes the bells
blows through the open porchway
like a passing aire of happiness,
like the breeze that leaves the sea.
It fills the nose and the mind with a
welcome nostalgia, a tranquil serenity,
an halcyon, which it oftly fares to be.
With its fingers of a delicate touch
it moves across my clothes with
the care of a mother to her child.
A life lived without a friendly wind as such
is as a wolf borne without the wild.
And to this I do declare,
Not a more loving friend,
Has run her fingers through my hair.
And how so fondly I do lament her leaving me alone, yet
Her absence is one I ask her not repent,
For in passing we shall again be in the company of friends.
And I owe it to her, my lovely, life changing wind,
To always feel her love and to show her mine in the end.