I was called a crank

Wind is my girl friend

Wind is my girl friend;

And this shouldn’t be interpreted

As water is my enemy

Or weather is my rival;

Only for inviting them all;

My window is throw open

All its shutter hands in

Welcoming gestures.

Sparrows are many time guests;

Some miscarried parrots

And squirrels at times;

Always mosquitoes and

Other species of the mother earth

Blurted out from her womb with

Many million years of life history

Come in and

Quit getting confirmed information of my love

For my girl friend wind,

And her entry zone, the window.

They enter,

See , how I love their living

Loving and dying.

Oftener

The rain enforced

A deadly swamp in,

And the Sun

With his kingly grin,

Made fun in turn.

To recreate,

My girl friend wind

Brought the chimes

Of the near by clock tower

Along with the flowery primes

Of the seasons ;

And leaves fallen with reasons.

I was called a crank

By the people of rank.

So what?

If I close the window

Forbidding my girl

Friend wind,

Who would compensate

What I miss

Through this

Sound and smell of

A sadly happier

Short lane.

How gladly my

Girl friend carries them in

With a lovely fun !