88 Wind Poems to Feel Its Volatile Character

The wind has been a source of inspiration for poets for centuries.

It can be gentle or fierce, calming or unsettling, and its ever-changing nature makes it a powerful symbol of transformation and growth.

Wind poems explore the many facets of this natural phenomenon, capturing its beauty, mystery, and power.

From funny and whimsical to serious and contemplative, these poems offer a wide range of emotions and themes.

Whether you’re a lover of nature, an aspiring poet, or simply someone who appreciates the beauty of language, poems about wind are sure to delight and inspire.

So sit back, relax, and let the wind carry you away on a journey of poetic discovery.

You May Also Be Interested In:

Funny Wind Poems

Wind can be a playful and mischievous force, and these interesting poems about wind capture its lighthearted spirit in delightful and humorous ways.

1. Stay Strong, Stay at Home

       by Jason Ray Turado

When the time stands still and the earth seems to be frozen.

All that remains are from a world that is broken.

When all the negativities surmount as if hope has fallen,

Muster your might, stay at home be brazen.

For in shattered days there is a fine line,

Not all is lost so there is no reason to whine.

For happiness is absolutely divine,

It lies not on others but in these hands of mine.

Now is a good season for all sorts of healing,

Don’t wallow in the world’s miseries nor in its own misgivings

May it be for your body, heart or soul be forgiving.

Do your best for there is nothing worse than regretting.

2. Wedding Wind

       by Philip Larkin

The wind blew all my wedding-day,

And my wedding-night was the night of the high wind;

And a stable door was banging, again and again,

That he must go and shut it, leaving me

Stupid in candlelight, hearing rain,

Seeing my face in the twisted candlestick,

Yet seeing nothing. When he came back

He said the horses were restless, and I was sad

that any man or beast that night should lack

the happiness I had.

Now in the day

all’s raveled under the sun by the winds blowing.

He has gone to look at the floods, and I

Carry a chipped pail to the chicken-run,

Set it down, and stare. All is the wind

Hunting through clouds and forests, thrashing

My apron and the hanging cloths on the line.

Can it be borne, this bodying-forth by wind

Of joy my actions turn on, like a thread

Carrying beads? Shall I be let to sleep

Now this perpetual morning shares my bed?

Can even death dry up

These new delighted lakes, conclude

Our kneeling as cattle by all-generous waters?

3. Break My Heart Break Wind

       by Katmandont

An alabaster statuette I found upon the steppe

When Otto ruled these magma flats of scarlet,

Flax grew not upon these stones but with my

Steel-toed boot I kick and lift the butt of my

Cheesy paramour, whose mauve hair

Embodies all I once embraced of arcane dream

Her pallid butt went sailing, sailing, in effect

She could fly…airborne now upon the dim horizon

My sweet cheeks made an obscene gesture at me

As she passed the oval of the moon

That opal orb grew closer to me which I thought

Odd, until I realized, frantic, my boot and foot

Where caught against Ulanda’s butt

And the whispering wind filled my mind with memories

Until we crashed, headlong, in the ebony pool

Through the especially cold and crystal thick ice…

4. Wandering Wind

       by Nowfal

I wander like a wind in the ignorance of my life

The ignorance of aimless mind

Sometimes the wind blow strongly

By the desire to get some goals of my dream.

But I know the wind may lose its aim,

because of the strong barriers made by mountains

Some other times wind will lose its aim even if no barriers are there

because the wind of dream is then travelling through endless ocean.

Even though the wind of my dream couldn’t gotten any goal,

the wind is happy because it meet some precious things.

Beautiful flowers, streams, fruits in forests and diamonds in the ocean

which means the friends of my dreamily life.

One day I hope the wind’ll reach in its aim,

then the journey will be more valuable to me.

But I hate to loose the flowers, streams, fruits and diamonds

which I met in the hard journey of heart breaking life.

5. Cornish Wind

       by Arthur Symons

There is a wind in Cornwall that I know

From any other wind, because it smells

Of the warm honey breath of heather-bells

And of the sea’s salt; and these meet and flow

With such sweet savour in such sharpness met

That the astonished sense in ecstasy

Tastes the ripe earth and the unvintaged sea.

Wind out of Cornwall, wind, if I forget :

Not in the tunnelled Streets where scarce men breathe

The air they live by, but wherever seas

Blossom in foam, wherever merchant bees

Volubly traffic upon any heath:

If I forget, shame me! or if I find

A wind in England like my Cornish wind.

6. When the Wind Is Low

       by Cale Young Rice

WHEN the wind is low, and the sea is soft,

And the far heat-lightning plays

On the rim of the west where dark clouds nest

On a darker bank of haze;

When I lean o’er the rail with you that I love

And gaze to my heart’s content;

I know that the heavens are there above—

But you are my firmament.

When the phosphor-stars are thrown from the bow

And the watch climbs up the shroud;

When the dim mast-dips as the vessel slips

Through the foam that seethes aloud;

I know that the years of our life are few,

And fain as a bird to flee,

That time is as brief as a drop of dew—

But you are Eternity.

7. Pirate Wind

       by Pirate-Rikku

The chilly wind’s a pirate,

Blustering in from the sea,

With a rollicking song he sweeps along;

Swaggering boist’rously.

His skin is weather beaten,

He wears a bright blue sash,

With a handkerchief red about his head;

And a bristling black moustache.

He laughs as he storms the country,

 A loud laugh and a bold;

And the trees all quake and shiver and shake,

 As he robs them of their gold.

The chilly wind’s a pirate,

 Pillaging just for fun;

He’ll snatch your hat as quick as that,

 And laugh to see you run!

8. Voice of the Western Wind

       by Edmund Clarence Stedman

Voice of the western wind!

Thou singest from afar,

Rich with the music of a land

Where all my memories are;

But in thy song I only hear

The echo of a tone

That fell divinely on my ear

In days forever flown.

Star of the western sky!

Thou beamest from afar,

With lustre caught from eyes I knew

Whose orbs were each a star;

But, oh, those orbs – too wildly bright –

No more eclipse thine own,

And never shall I find the light

Of days forever flown!

9. Kisses on the Wind

       by Anonymous 

I blow a kiss upon the wind

Hoping it will find you safe

And land with a tender touch

Upon your much loved cheek

I kiss my palm and blow it to you

I send it straight to your heart

Tender touches and caresses

To bind our love together

Inspirational Wind Poems

The wind can also be a symbol of change and transformation, and these inspirational poems about wind offer messages of hope, renewal, and growth.

1. The Soul of the Sea

       by Clark Ashton Smith

A wind comes in from the sea,

And rolls through the hollow dark

Like loud, tempestuous waters.

As the swift recurrent tide,

It pours adown the sky,

And rears at the cliffs of night

Uppiled against the vast.

Like the soul of the sea—

Hungry, unsatisfied

With ravin of shores and of ships—

Come forth on the land to seek

New prey of tideless coasts,

It raves, made hoarse with desire,

And the sounds of the night are dumb

With the sound of its passing.

2. The Wind and The Moon

       by Clark Ashton Smith

Oh, list to the wind of the night, oh, hark,

How it shrieks as it goes on its hurrying quest!

Forever its voice is a voice of the dark,

Forever its voice is a voice of unrest.

Oh, list to the pines as they shiver and sway

‘Neath the ceaseless beat of its myriad wings—

How they moan and they sob like living things

That cry in the darkness for light and day!

Now bend they low as the wind mounts higher,

And its eerie voice comes piercingly,

Like the plaint of humanity’s misery,

And its burden of vain desire.

Now to a sad, tense whisper it fails,

Then wildly and madly it raves and it wails.

Oh, the night is filled with its sob and its shriek,

Its weird and its restless, yearning cry,

As it races adown the darkened sky,

With scurry of broken clouds that seek,

Borne on the wings of the hastening wind,

A place of rest that they never can find.

And around the face of the moon they cling,

Its fugitive face to veil they aspire;

But ever and ever it peereth out,

Rending the cloud-ranks that hem it about;

And it seemeth a lost and phantom thing,

Like a phantom of dead desire.

3. The Wind

       by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Of all the sounds dispatched abroad,

There’s not a charge to me

Like that old measure in the boughs,

That phrase less melody

The wind does, working like a hand

Whose fingers brush the sky,

Then quiver down, with tufts of tune

Permitted gods and me.

When winds go round and round in bands,

And thrum upon the door,

And birds take places overhead,

To bear them orchestra,

I crave him grace, of summer boughs,

If such an outcast be,

He never heard that fleshless chant

Rise solemn in the tree,

As if some caravan of sound

On deserts, in the sky,

Had broken rank,

Then knit, and passed

In seamless company.

4. Wind and Window Flower

       by Robert Frost

Lovers, forget your love,

And list to the love of these,

She a window flower,

And he a winter breeze.

When the frosty window veil

Was melted down at noon,

And the caged yellow bird

Hung over her in tune,

He marked her through the pane,

He could not help but mark,

And only passed her by,

To come again at dark.

He was a winter wind,

Concerned with ice and snow,

Dead weeds and unmated birds,

And little of love could know.

But he sighed upon the sill,

He gave the sash a shake,

As witness all within

Who lay that night awake.

Perchance he half prevailed

To win her for the flight

From the firelit looking-glass

And warm stove-window light.

But the flower leaned aside

And thought of naught to say,

And morning found the breeze

A hundred miles away.

5. The Winds of Angus

       by George William Russell

The grey road whereupon we trod became as holy ground:

The eve was all one voice that breathed its message with no sound:

And burning multitudes pour through my heart, too bright, too blind,

Too swift and hurried in their flight to leave their tale behind.

Twin gates unto that living world, dark honey-coloured eyes

The lifting of whose lashes flushed the face with paradise–

Beloved, there I saw within their ardent rays unfold

The likeness of enraptured birds that flew from deeps of gold

To deeps of gold within my breast to rest or there to be

Transfigured in the light, or find a death to life in me.

So love, a burning multitude, a seraph wind which blows

From out the deep of being to the deep of being goes:

And sun and moon and starry fires and earth and air and sea

Are creatures from the deep let loose who pause in ecstasy,

Or wing their wild and heavenly way until again they find

The ancient deep and fade therein, enraptured, bright and blind.

6. Wind

       by Walter R. Cassels

Oh! weird West Wind, that comest from the sea,

Sad with the murmur of the weary waves,

Wand’ring for ever through old ocean caves,

Why troublest thou the hearts that list to thee,

With echoes of forgotten misery?

The night is black with clouds that thou art bringing

From the far waters of the stormy main,

Welling their woes forth wearily in rain,

Betwixt us and the light their dark course winging,

And dreary shadows o’er the spirit flinging.

Whence is thy power to smite the silent heart,

Till as of old the unseal’d waters run?

Whence is thy magic, Oh! thou unseen one,

To make still sorrows from their slumbers start,

And play again, unsought, their bitter part?

We are all one with Nature every breeze

Stealeth about the chambers of the soul,

Haunting their rest with sounds of joy or dole;

And every cloud that creepeth from the seas,

Traileth its shade o’er human sympathies.

Blow! blow, thou weird wind, till the clouds be rent,

And starlight glimmer through the riven seams,

Scatter their darkness like the mist of dreams,

Till all the fleeting, spectre-gloom be spent,

And the bright Future gem the firmament.

Blow! blow! Night’s “Mené Tekel” even now

Glows on her palace-walls, and she shall pass

Like the dim vapour from a burnish’d glass;

And no chill shadows o’er the soul shall go,

Borne by each weeping West Wind to and fro.

7. The Wind

       by Edward Shanks

Blow harder, wind, and drive

my blood from hands and face back to the heart.

Cry over ridges and down tapering coombs,

Carry the flying dapple of the clouds

Over the grass, over the soft-grained plough,

Stroke with ungentle hand the hill’s rough hair

Against its usual set.

Snatch at the reins in my dead hands and push me

Out of my saddle, blow my laboring pony

across the track. You only drive my blood

Nearer the heart from face and hands, and plant there,

Slowly burning, unseen, but alive and wonderful,

A numb, confused joy!

This little world’s in tumult. Far away

the dim waves rise and wrestle with each other

and fall down headlong on the beach. And here

Quick gusts fly up the funnels of the valleys

And meet their raging fellows on the hill-tops,

And we are in the midst.

This beating heart, enriched with the hands’ blood,

Stands in the midst and feels the warm joy burn

In solitude and silence, while all about

The gusts clamour like living, angry birds,

And the gorse seems hardly tethered to the ground.

Blow louder, wind, about

My square-set house, rattle the windows, lift

The trap-door to the loft above my head

And let it fall, clapping. Yell in the trees,

And throw a rotted elm-branch to the ground,

Flog the dry trailers of my climbing rose–

Make deep, O wind, my rest!

8. The Wind at Night

       by Madison Julius Cawein

Not till the wild man wind is shrill,

Howling upon the hill

In every wolfish tree, whose boisterous boughs,

Like desperate arms, gesture and beat the night,

And down huge clouds, in chasms of stormy white

The frightened moon hurries above the house,

Shall I lie down; and, deep,

Letting the mad wind keep

Its shouting revel round me, fall asleep.

Not till its dark halloo is hushed,

And where wild waters rushed,

Like some hoofed terror underneath its whip

And spur of foam, remains

A ghostly glass, hill-framed; where over stains

Of moony mists and rains,

And stealthy star beams, like vague specters, slip;

Shall I, with thoughts that take

Unto themselves the ache

Of silence as a sound, from sleep awake.

9. The Winds’ Possession

       by Maurice Henry Hewlett

When winds blow high and leaves begin to fall,

And the wan sunlight flits before the blast;

When fields are brown and crops are garnered all,

And rooks, like mastered ships, drift wide and fast;

Maid Artemis, that feeleth her young blood

Leap like a freshet river for the sea,

Speedeth abroad with hair blown in a flood

To snuff the salt west wind and wanton free.

Then would you know how brave she is, how high

Her ancestry, how kindred to the wind,

Mark but her flashing feet, her ravisht eye

That takes the boist’rous weather and feels it kind:

And hear her eager voice, how tuned it is

To Autumn’s clarion shrill for Artemis.

10. Big Cold Wind Tonight

       by David Thomas

Wind blows loud tonight

on the top of this mountain

moving with force among

trees and buildings

old sat dish on the roof

boards creak listening.

Sleep evading like warmth

the country at large

Arctic Spring on Monday.

Old man dreams don’t arrive

which is fine God is here.

They try to make Him

an uncomfortable word

best left alone

but I defer.

Making Christians seem crazy

expressing themselves

God this God that

we need saving

or at least a vacation

long and insured.

Embarrassment being part

of standing up in this world.

Saying, “Here I am! “

the titter wave blows

“He’s strange let him go”

Sleep or no sleep is the same

since it’s all a dream.

And listening to cold wind or

the pause quietly unloading

God again in my heart.

Silver cloud lining why

sleep is not sought…

resting in Him

is the best sleep I’ve got .

Writing at 4 am about Him

the best dreams to have

sitting beside Him on top of Cold Mountain

while momma and dog sleep nearby

surely goodness and mercy are here

and will follow me all the days of my life.

I shall dwell in the House of the Lord

forever and perhaps am already there 

sleeping no longer needed

not a heavenly affair.

Famous Wind Poems

These famous poems about wind are a beautiful tribute to this natural phenomenon that is ever present around us. Let’s read them!

1. Clothes

       by Kahlil Gibran

And the weaver said, ‘Speak to us of Clothes.’

And he answered:

Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful.

And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain.

Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment,

For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind.

Some of you say, ‘It is the north wind who has woven the clothes to wear.’

But shame was his loom, and the softening of the sinews was his thread.

And when his work was done he laughed in the forest.

Forget not that modesty is for a shield against the eye of the unclean.

And when the unclean shall be no more, what were modesty but a fetter and a fouling of the mind?

And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

2. The Snow Man

       by Wallace Stevens

One must have a mind of winter

To regard the frost and the boughs

Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time

To behold the junipers shagged with ice,

The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think

Of any misery in the sound of the wind,

In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land

Full of the same wind

That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,

And, nothing himself, beholds

Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

3. Domination of Black

       by Wallace Stevens

At night, by the fire,

The colors of the bushes

And of the fallen leaves,

Repeating themselves,

Turned in the room,

Like the leaves themselves

Turning in the wind.

Yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks

Came striding.

And I remembered the cry of the peacocks.

The colors of their tails

Were like the leaves themselves

Turning in the wind,

In the twilight wind.

They swept over the room,

Just as they flew from the boughs of the hemlocks

Down to the ground.

I heard them cry — the peacocks.

Was it a cry against the twilight

Or against the leaves themselves

Turning in the wind,

Turning as the flames

Turned in the fire,

Turning as the tails of the peacocks

Turned in the loud fire,

Loud as the hemlocks

Full of the cry of the peacocks?

Or was it a cry against the hemlocks?

Out of the window,

I saw how the planets gathered

Like the leaves themselves

Turning in the wind.

I saw how the night came,

Came striding like the color of the heavy hemlocks

I felt afraid.

And I remembered the cry of the peacocks.

4. The Rainy Day

       by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains,and the wind is never weary;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,

But at every gust the dead leaves fall,

And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;

It rains,and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past,

But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,

And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

5. The Search of The Wind

       by Indira Renganathan

Blowing upon the sea wind felt salty

‘No no’ it said, went on for something sweet

Blowing upon the hill wind felt foggy

‘No no’ it said, went on for something sweet

Blowing upon the sky wind felt clouded

‘No no’ it said, went on for something sweet

Blowing upon a desert wind felt dry

‘No no’ it said, went on for something sweet

Blowing upon a river wind felt towed

‘No no’ it said, went on for something sweet

Blowing under the sun wind felt sunny

‘No no’ it said, went on for something sweet

Blowing under the moon wind felt yearning

Reason unknown, went on for something sweet

Reason unknown wind felt forlorn and sad

In more search it went on for something sweet

At last adown on a flower garden

When it blew, in heart it felt something sweet

A love so sweet closer hand in hand there

Wind got stirred so sweet of something so sweet

A love so sweet closer eyes in eyes there

Wind got stirred so sweet of something so sweet

A love so sweet closer heart in heart there

Wind got stirred so sweet of something so sweet

A love so sweet closer soul in soul there

Mother and babe, so sweet something so sweet

Now wind started singing tra la la la

Tra la la la finding a love so sweet

6. The Wind

       by Anonymous

The wind’s this ancient bloke below

who chunters “we,” who wheezes “us,”

though no one else will come or go.

You want to ask the wind “Who’s us?”

but hold your tongue till, in your head,

the wind and him have somehow mixed,

the type of wind that loves a shed

and banging on of things not fixed:

a belt-and-braces year-round wind,

a kiln-dried cobwebbed hardwood wind,

a greenhouse wind, a treebound wind,

an end-of-season car-boot wind,

a padlocked shower unit wind,

an upturned wheelie dumpster wind,

a channel not quite tuned-in wind,

a hollow flight-path thunder wind,

a dog-eared wind, a knocked-sign wind,

a spouseless phantom ocean-blown

autumnal graveyard Scots pine wind

who speaks in plurals, moves alone.

7. Like A Wind

       by Haiqing Hua

Season is like a wind

It is the time July comes

July is a time to run after the wind

July is a time the sunshine shines as a fire

So July it comes

The time of July is like a wind

A wind like and a fire  like July is the time sun shines all over the world

The bit wind cold snow winter no more

No more the cool wind sorrow rain of autumn

Not even the spring cold that chills everyone’s heart

Like a wind is the time of July

The time like a wind blow over

It lost its way under the sunshine

The sunshine shines as a golden fiery fire

It is July as hot as this fire

As gold shining hot wind blows over

In a season like a wind

The memory is evaporating

They evaporate over to the high far sky

A wind is blowing the remaining cloud away

8. Summer Is Like a Wind

       by Haiqing Hua

Summer is like a wind

The summer in Toronto this year is like a wind

A wind come from afar

It comes in whistling

It makes this summer so cool

Even the broiling memory has been cooled down

The bench in the park has collapsed

It has collapsed under the setting of the sunshine

It has collapsed under the blowing continent wind

The continent wind blow over this summer

This North America summer as cool as autumns

A summer passed as a wind

Summer is like a wind

What cannot be blown off as a wind is our memory

The memory comes from afar

It comes in whistling as a wind

A memory is burning as a fire

A burning memory that can never be cooled down

The memory is like the white flower grasses all over the world

They are shivering in this wind

They kept crawling on the ground

They make sure they will never be blown off by the wind

Summer is like a wind

So soft smooth finery as the air surging in the wind

They have gathered a strength that can sweep off all the rotten things

The wind is sweeping

The trees on the hill has grown into a wood

The setting sun is unlimited

It is unlimited as the blue sky and white cloud

9. I’ll Be the Wind

       by Zion Anisius

I’ll be the wind, the wind that soothes your soul to bring a smile upon,

I’ll be the wind which bends away from the mountain tops, ill adjust my sails just to get where you are.

I’ll be the wind that cross the deepest oceans kissing the waters just to burn down the fire in your heart.

I’ll the wind that stops by the hurricane to listen to all your meandering thoughts, the ones you are afraid to tell out loud.

I’ll be the wind that touches your skin while you are lost under the blazing suns, the wind to cover you from the deserted sands, yet protecting you from the enemies.

I’ll be the wind to roar your silence out loud when the lonely nights reach your feet; ill carry your words through the galaxies back to the memories you ask for.

Let me be the wind, the wind you breathe in, the wind to protect you, the wind to soothe you, the wind to look upon you for ill carry your messages safe through the lightning and thunder.

10. Wind Rising in the Alleys

       by Lola Ridge

Wind rising in the alleys

My spirit lifts in you like a banner streaming free of hot walls.

You are full of unspent dreams….

You are laden with beginnings….

There is hope in you… not sweet… acrid as blood in the mouth.

Come into my tossing dust

Scattering the peace of old deaths,

Wind rising in the alleys,

Carrying stuff of flame.

Short Wind Poems

Sometimes, the simplest things can be the most beautiful. These short poetries about wind distill the essence of this natural phenomenon into just a few words, making them perfect for a quick dose of poetic inspiration.

1. Autumn Song

       by Sarojini Naidu

Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,

The sunset hangs on a cloud;

A golden storm of glittering sheaves,

Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,

The wild wind blows in a cloud.

Hark to a voice that is calling

to my heart in the voice of the wind:

My heart is weary and sad and alone,

For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,

And why should I stay behind?

2. Who Has Seen the Wind?

       by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you.

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I.

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

3. Before the Dawn

       by Mary Havran

Before dawn wind rushes

driving night’s chill westward

so vestiges of darkness

send shivers along my spine.

Facing east I fight

cold’s piercing urge to wince,

and huddled await morn’s blush.

No wind or cold may dissuade

my eyes from pending purchase

of that precious brief pink palette,

clouds trimmed in rosy piping

which dress the sky at dawn.

4. Autumn Movement

       by Carl Sandburg

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper

sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes,

new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind,

and the old things go, not one lasts.

5. All Day Long

       by Carl Sandburg

All day long in fog and wind,

The waves have flung their beating crests

Against the palisades of adamant.

My boy, he went to sea, long and long ago,

Curls of brown were slipping underneath his cap,

He looked at me from blue and steely eyes;

Natty, straight and true, he stepped away,

My boy, he went to sea.

All day long in fog and wind,

The waves have flung their beating crests

Against the palisades of adamant.

6. Now Close the Windows

       by Robert Frost

Now close the windows and hush all the fields:

If the trees must, let them silently toss;

No bird is singing now, and if there is,

Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,

I will be long ere the earliest bird:

So close the windows and not hear the wind,

But see all wind-stirred.

7. Fire

       by Dorothea Mackellar

This life that we call our own

Is neither strong nor free;

A flame in the wind of death,

It trembles ceaselessly.

And this all we can do

To use our little light

Before, in the piercing wind,

It flickers into night:

To yield the heat of the flame,

To grudge not, but to give

Whatever we have of strength,

That one more flame may live.

8. Being Young and Green

       by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Being Young and Green, I said in love’s despite:

Never in the world will I to living wight

Give over, air my mind

To anyone,

Hang out its ancient secrets in the strong wind

To be shredded and faded—

Oh, me, invaded

And sacked by the wind and the sun!

9. The Wind, One Brilliant Day

       by Antonio Machado

The wind, one brilliant day, called

to my soul with an odor of jasmine.

‘In return for the odor of my jasmine,

I’d like all the odor of your roses.’

‘I have no roses; all the flowers

in my garden are dead.’

‘Well then, I’ll take the withered petals

and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.’

the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:

‘What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?’

10. Demand

       by Langston Hughes


Dear dream of utter aliveness-

Touching my body of utter death-

Tell me, O quickly! Dream of aliveness,

the flaming source of your bright breath.

Tell me, O dream of utter aliveness-

Knowing so well the wind and the sun-

Where is this light

your eyes see forever?

And what is the wind

you touch when you run?

Long Wind Poems

For those who love to immerse themselves in the beauty of language and imagery, these long poetries about wind poems offer a deep and rich exploration of this natural force.

1. North Wind – Wind in The Streets

       by Bulent Karaalioglu

Wind in the streets, love on my mind

Old rains at midnight

They sing quietly, softly

The one I miss is far away now

Nilüfer’s song gets under my skin.

I wanted to be the wind, but I became a human.

The bird won’t know Nilüfer’s song.

Nilüfer will not know how to fly like a bird.

The architectural mind that designs cities to receive wind.

One city is a breeze, two cities are storms and three cities are hurricanes.

The mind that writes songs

One song is a breeze, two songs are storms and

three songs are hurricanes

There’s wind in the birds’ main path.

All I need is the wind

Either pure snow or wind purifies the cities

My brain will be cooled by the north wind

In the centre skin of the cities,

I’m a dead body like the earth.

Tell me, wind, are you like letters that are never written?

Tell me, bird, with the wind,

If you’ll be my friend

I used to feed you fish.

The bird won’t know Nilüfer’s song.

Nilüfer doesn’t know how to fly like a bird.

The bird and the wind are friends,

The one who lost his rainbow coat,

At the pier of a city, in the future hours of fishing boats,

I made friends with a cat on the shore.

A city in the north, wind north-west

Wind level 2

City of sea, sand and wind

There’s wind in the streets. There’s a sadness in me.

The wind plays in my hair, in the leaves of the trees.

The wind without learnt forgetfulness,

A messenger from the sky, an echo.

There are no windows, doors and walls.

I hand myself my honoured sword (my pen)

to the bench where I fit the sky into my heart and subjectivity.

I especially like the bench where the wind blows the sweetest and strongest. The waves intensify their attacks. I love the simple water bubbles in the last words of the sparkling salt on the rocks.

All connected to each other

Sun, wind and sea

This is the only place where I don’t dream and think. I’m not dreaming. I’m in it.

No thinking, just watching.

There’s nothing to do.

I’m trying to be a blind painter.

After all the mathematical and geometrical calculations, we whistle in the dark in the universe. The universe is a blind painter with a brush without feeling.

Breeze, storm and hurricane

One universe serenity, two universes solar hurricane, three universes black hole entropy

Once a man sows the wind, the storm is inevitable.

Money is the wind, mono money is sweet. Two money is profit. Three money is crisis and poverty.

People are the wind. One people sleep. Two people are organisations. Three people are storms and hurricanes.

She’ll uproot reigns.

One woman is the wind. Two women are a storm. Three women are hurricanes.

The love in the depths of our soul is like the wind. It’s warm like a breeze.

As the level of the wind increases, it turns into a storm or even a hurricane.

We came from this universe like the wind,

we’re going like the wind.

Immortal papers will be left behind.

Even if they’re addressed to a different organ,

Toilet paper is everyone’s problem in supermarkets

Tons of toilet paper. Colorful rolls

It’s not poetry people are worried about.

The Stone Age didn’t end because the stones ran out.

The winds did not end because the storm ended.

Poems did not end because the papers ran out.

One poem is a breeze, two poems are storms, and

three poems are hurricanes.

There is wind in the streets, lotus in the song.

There is wind outside and sun inside me.

I became human when I wanted to be the wind.

A city in the north

Wind south level two

If the wind and poetry stop, the world will stop.

2. My Savior

       by Ashley N. Potts

Nature’s melody, unknown and unseen,

A song, a story that is yet to be heard.

A moment in time that is meant to occur.

In a singsong voice, a lovebird chirps.

In a perfect picture, something is gone,

That something, invisible, from dusk to dawn.

It’s the most harmonious thing that nature can offer,

That blows through canopies of trees large and small.

The thing that whispers sweet nothings to enthrall.

It blows the flowers to and fro;

Like an artist’s palette; beautiful colors flow through.

It breathes beauty upon the earth to subdue.

As it whisks by, my problems float away.

And negativity drops off completely,

As the scents of nature drift to my nose discreetly.

If you’re completely silent, you can hear,

And you can see the trees move ever so slightly.

And you can feel it wrap around you so tightly.

It is soft and sweet, and it hums an innocent tune.

And the way it portrays it’s security,

Is to flaunt around its best feature, its purity.

It is unique; it flows like no other,

It passes through every crack, hole and corner.

To this magic, neither animal nor plant is a foreigner.

As I stare out to the wind, and listen to its song,

It’s breath of life does fall upon me,

And its innocence fills me to a great degree.

The brilliance sweeps me off of my feet,

And the life of it all fills me to the brim!

While I sit here with a sudden whim.

Wonderful wind, won’t you be my best of friends?

You’re greater than any I’ve had before,

You actually listen and you’ll never ignore.

You’ve existed since the beginning, and will last ’til the end,

You will always be there to sing me lullabies at night.

And you are always there, beyond our sight.

When others abandon me and the world is destroyed,

You are there, right at my side.

And with all of my problems, in you I confide!

So as I rest tonight, I give you my word.

Sweet wind, my savior, if you watch over my soul,

We will sing sweet lullabies together,

And for the rest of my days only you I shall extol.

3. Whisper in the Wind

       by Samantha C. Fifer

I hear it calling me,

In the middle of the night.

A whisper at my window,

Beckoning me to frolic,

In the cool summer breeze.

It blows gently through my hair,

As I dance across,

The soft green grass,

The wind tickles my feet,

When the breeze ruffles through the grass.

I dance to a pond where,

Every time I sit down,

At the murky water,

I can see my reflection,

By the moonlight dancing,

Across the water.

My reflection fades away,

When a willow branch whips,

At the water, and cast,

A ripple that continues,

Throughout the pond.

I lay here gazing up,

At the starry night,

Wondering how it can,

Be so beautiful.

And if it would last forever,

But then I realize that,

Not everything lasts forever,

But comes once more,

After another day,

Comes upon us.

4. The Night-Wind

       by Emily Jane Bronte

In summer’s mellow midnight,

A cloudless moon shone through

Our open parlour window,

And rose-trees wet with dew.

I sat in silent musing;

The soft wind waved my hair;

It told me heaven was glorious,

And sleeping earth was fair.

I needed not its breathing

To bring such thoughts to me;

But still it whispered lowly,

How dark the woods will be!

“The thick leaves in my murmur

Are rustling like a dream,

And all their myriad voices

Instinct with spirit seem.”

I said, “Go, gentle singer,

Thy wooing voice is kind:

But do not think its music

Has power to reach my mind.

“Play with the scented flower,

The young tree’s supple bough,

And leave my human feelings

In their own course to flow.”

The wanderer would not heed me;

Its kiss grew warmer still.

“O come!” it sighed so sweetly;

“I’ll win thee ‘gainst thy will.

“Were we not friends from childhood?

Have I not loved thee long?

As long as thou, the solemn night,

Whose silence wakes my song.

“And when thy heart is resting

Beneath the church-aisle stone,

I shall have time for mourning,

And THOU for being alone.”

In these stanzas a louder gale has roused the sleeper on her

pillow: the wakened soul struggles to blend with the storm by

which it is swayed:—

Ay—there it is! it wakes to-night

Deep feelings I thought dead;

Strong in the blast—quick gathering light—

The heart’s flame kindles red.

“Now I can tell by thine altered cheek,

And by thine eyes’ full gaze,

And by the words thou scarce dost speak,

How wildly fancy plays.

“Yes—I could swear that glorious wind

Has swept the world aside,

Has dashed its memory from thy mind

Like foam-bells from the tide:

“And thou art now a spirit pouring

Thy presence into all:

The thunder of the tempest’s roaring,

The whisper of its fall:

“An universal influence,

From thine own influence free;

A principle of life—intense—

Lost to mortality.

“Thus truly, when that breast is cold,

Thy prisoned soul shall rise;

The dungeon mingle with the mould—

The captive with the skies.

Nature’s deep being, thine shall hold,

Her spirit all thy spirit fold,

Her breath absorb thy sighs.

Mortal! though soon life’s tale is told;

Who once lives, never dies!”

5. Ode to the North-East Wind

       by Charles Kingsley

Welcome, wild North-easter.

Shame it is to see

Odes to every zephyr;

Ne’er a verse to thee.

Welcome, black North-easter!

O’er the German foam;

O’er the Danish moorlands,

From thy frozen home.

Tired we are of summer,

Tired of gaudy glare,

Showers soft and steaming,

Hot and breathless air.

Tired of listless dreaming,

Through the lazy day:

Jovial wind of winter

Turns us out to play!

Sweep the golden reed-beds;

Crisp the lazy dyke;

Hunger into madness

Every plunging pike.

Fill the lake with wild-fowl;

Fill the marsh with snipe;

While on dreary moorlands

Lonely curlew pipe.

Through the black fir-forest

Thunder harsh and dry,

Shattering down the snow-flakes

Off the curdled sky.

Hark! The brave North-easter!

Breast-high lies the scent,

On by holt and headland,

Over heath and bent.

Chime, ye dappled darlings,

Through the sleet and snow.

Who can over-ride you?

Let the horses go!

Chime, ye dappled darlings,

Down the roaring blast;

You shall see a fox die

Ere an hour be past.

Go! and rest to-morrow,

Hunting in your dreams,

While our skates are ringing

O’er the frozen streams.

Let the luscious South-wind

Breathe in lovers’ sighs,

While the lazy gallants

Bask in ladies’ eyes.

What does he but soften

Heart alike and pen?

‘Tis the hard gray weather

Breeds hard English men.

What’s the soft South-wester?

‘Tis the ladies’ breeze,

Bringing home their true-loves

Out of all the seas:

But the black North-easter,

Through the snowstorm hurled,

Drives our English hearts of oak

Seaward round the world.

Come, as came our fathers,

Heralded by thee,

Conquering from the eastward,

Lords by land and sea.

Come; and strong within us

Stir the Vikings’ blood;

Bracing brain and sinew;

Blow, thou wind of God!

6. Wind

       by Ted Hughes

This house has been far out at sea all night,

The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills,

Winds stampeding the fields under the window

Floundering black astride and blinding wet

Till day rose; then under an orange sky

The hills had new places, and wind wielded

Blade-light, luminous black and emerald,

Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.

At noon I scaled along the house-side as far as

The coal-house door. Once I looked up –

Through the brunt wind that dented the balls of my eyes

The tent of the hills drummed and strained its guyrope,

The fields quivering, the skyline a grimace,

At any second to bang and vanish with a flap;

The wind flung a magpie away and a black-

Back gull bent like an iron bar slowly. The house

Rang like some fine green goblet in the note

That any second would shatter it. Now deep

In chairs, in front of the great fire, we grip

Our hearts and cannot entertain book, thought,

Or each other. We watch the fire blazing,

And feel the roots of the house move, but sit on,

Seeing the window tremble to come in,

Hearing the stones cry out under the horizons.

7. The Wind on the Hills

       by Dora Sigerson Shorter

Go not to the hills of Erin

When the night winds are about,

Put up your bar and shutter,

And so keep the danger out.

For the good-folk whirl within it,

And they pull you by the hand,

And they push you on the shoulder,

Till you move to their command.

And lo! you have forgotten

What you have known of tears,

And you will not remember

That the world goes full of years;

A year there is a lifetime,

And a second but a day,

And an older world will meet you

Each morn you come away.

Your wife grows old with weeping,

And your children one by one

Grow grey with nights of watching,

Before your dance is done.

And it will chance some morning

You will come home no more,

Your wife sees but a withered leaf

In the wind about the door.

And your children will inherit

The unrest of the wind,

They shall seek some face elusive,

And some land they never find.

When the wind is loud, they sighing

Go with hearts unsatisfied,

For some joy beyond remembrance,

For some memory denied.

And all your children’s children,

They cannot sleep or rest,

When the wind is out in Erin

And the sun is in the West.

8. The Wind Was There

       by Bravig Imbs

all was in flight

wild geese in the sky

snow from the sky flying

rivers hastening to the sea

and waves from the mid sea

hastening to the shore

horses running from a fence

fences running from the ground

Ground fleeing from the sky

and the sky was filled with flying stars

and suns innumerable

daisies springing from the grass

pines fleeing up the mountainside

even the mountain was in flight

less swift than southward geese

or rivers in the spring

less swift than these but fleeing still

stone upon stone scraping in slow erosion

gravel grinding into dust and fleeing before the wind

all was in flight

even from a distance I

my flight was faster than a fleeing cloud

I only knew the wind was there

swift and imperious and proud

sharper than fine steel

so shall I ever flee

swifter yet swifter

until the speed is such

my spirit shall enkindle with the wind

and then

a brown and crackled leaf I’ll fall

my flesh to shrivel into mould

my blood to mingle with the seeping rain

and all my body’s flight become a strange return

9. A Prayer to the Wind

       by Thomas Carew

Go thou gentle whispering wind,

Bear this sigh; and if thou find

Where my cruel fair doth rest,

Cast it in her snowy breast,

So, enflam’d by my desire,

It may set her heart a-fire.

Those sweet kisses thou shalt gain,

Will reward thee for thy pain:

Boldly light upon her lip,

There suck odours, and thence skip

To her bosom; lastly fall

Down, and wander over all:

Range about those ivory hills,

From whose every part distills

Amber dew; there spices grow,

There pure streams of nectar flow;

There perfume thyself, and bring

All those sweets upon thy wing:

As thou return’st, change by thy power,

Every weed into a flower;

Turn each thistle to a vine,

Make the bramble eglantine.

For so rich a booty made,

Do but this, and I am paid.

Thou canst with thy powerful blast,

Heat apace, and cool as fast:

Thou canst kindle hidden flame,

And again destroy the same;

Then for pity, either stir

Up the fire of love in her,

That alike both flames may shine,

Or else quite extinguish mine.

10. Spring Wind in London

       by Katherine

I Blow across the stagnant world,

I blow across the sea,

For me, the sailor’s flag unfurled,

For me, the uprooted tree.

My challenge to the world is hurled;

The world must bow to me.

I drive the clouds across the sky,

I huddle them like sheep;

Merciless shepherd-dog am I

And shepherd-watch I keep.

If in the quiet vales they lie

I blow them up the steep.

Lo!  in the tree-tops do I hide,

In every living thing;

On the moon’s yellow wings I glide,

On the wild rose I swing;

On the sea-horse’s back I ride,

And what then do I bring?

And when a little child is ill

I pause, and with my hand

I wave the window curtain’s frill

That he may understand

Outside the wind is blowing still;

…It is a pleasant land.

O stranger in a foreign place,

See what I bring to you.

This rain—is tears upon your face;

I tell you—tell you true

I came from that forgotten place

Where once the wattle grew,—

All the wild sweetness of the flower

Tangled against the wall.

It was that magic, silent hour….

The branches grew so tall

They twined themselves into a bower.

The sun shown… and the fall

Of yellow blossom on the grass!

You feel that golden rain?

Both of you could not hold, alas,

(both of you tried, in vain)

A memory, stranger. So I pass….

It will not come again

Wind Poems That Rhyme

Rhyming poetry can be especially enchanting, and these poems about wind with rhyming words use rhyme and meter to create a musical and lyrical experience for the reader.

1. Granny Poem

       by Spike Milligan

Through every nook and every cranny

The wind blew in on poor old Granny

Around her knees, into each ear

(And up nose as well, I fear)

All through the night the wind grew worse

It nearly made the vicar curse

The top had fallen off the steeple

Just missing him (and other people)

It blew on man, it blew on beast

It blew on nun, it blew on priest

It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-

But most of all, it blew on Granny!

2. A Ballad of Dreamland

       by Algernon Charles Swinburne

I hid my heart in a nest of roses,

Out of the sun’s way, hidden apart;

In a softer bed than the soft white snow’s is,

Under the roses I hid my heart.

Why would it sleep not? why should it start,

When never a leaf of the rose-tree stirred?

What made sleep flutter his wings and part?

Only the song of a secret bird.

Lie still, I said, for the wind’s wing closes,

And mild leaves muffle the keen sun’s dart;

Lie still, for the wind on the warm seas dozes,

And the wind is unquieter yet than thou art.

Does a thought in thee still as a thorn’s wound smart?

Does the fang still fret thee of hope deferred?

What bids the lips of thy sleep dispart?

Only the song of a secret bird.

The green land’s name that a charm encloses,

It never was writ in the traveller’s chart,

And sweet on its trees as the fruit that grows is,

It never was sold in the merchant’s mart.

The swallows of dreams through its dim fields dart,

And sleeps are the tunes in its tree-tops heard;

No hound’s note wakens the wildwood hart,

Only the song of a secret bird.

3. A Love by The Sea

       by William Ernest Henley

Out of the starless night that covers me,

(O tribulation of the wind that rolls!)

Black as the cloud of some tremendous spell,

The susurration of the sighing sea

Sounds like the sobbing whisper of two souls

That tremble in a passion of farewell.

To the desires that trebled life in me,

(O melancholy of the wind that rolls!)

The dreams that seemed the future to foretell,

The hopes that mounted herward like the sea,

To all the sweet things sent on happy souls,

I cannot choose but bid a mute farewell.

And to the girl who was so much to me

(O lamentation of this wind that rolls!)

Since I may not the life of her compel,

Out of the night, beside the sounding sea,

Full of the love that might have blent our souls,

A sad, a last, a long, supreme farewell.

4. The Wind

       by Robert Louis Stevenson

I saw you toss the kites on high

And blow the birds about the sky;

And all around I heard you pass,

Like ladies’ skirts across the grass–

O wind, a-blowing all day long,

O wind, that sings so loud a song!

I saw the different things you did,

But always you yourself you hid.

I felt you push, I heard you call,

I could not see yourself at all–

O wind, a-blowing all day long,

O wind, that sings so loud a song!

O you that are so strong and cold,

O blower, are you young or old?

Are you a beast of field and tree,

Or just a stronger child than me?

O wind, a-blowing all day long,

O wind, that sings so loud a song!

5. The Aim Was Song

       by Robert Frost

Before man to blow to right

The wind once blew itself untaught,

And did its loudest day and night

In any rough place where it caught.

Man came to tell it what was wrong:

It hadn’t found the place to blow;

It blew too hard – the aim was song.

And listen – how it ought to go!

He took a little in his mouth,

And held it long enough for north

To be converted into south,

And then by measure blew it forth.

By measure. It was word and note,

The wind the wind had meant to be –

A little through the lips and throat.

The aim was song – the wind could see.

6. Walking Wind

       by Kumarmani Mahakul

Where is your super mind?

Now you see walking wind,

Walking wind, walking wind,

Where is your super mind?

My mind is very kind,

Very kind, very kind,

Now I see walking wind,

Walking wind I too find.

Walking wind is not kind,

Storm like this so blind,

Cyclone like this is rind,

Still we see walking wind.

Mined coal floats to bind,

Twined flowers are so kind,

Grind mind, now you grind,

You walk like walking wind.

Walking wind, walking wind,

Where is your super mind?

Where is your super mind?

Now you see walking wind.

7. The Wind of the World

       by George Macdonald

Chained is the Spring.

The Night-wind bold

Blows over the hard earth;

Time is not more confused and cold,

Nor keeps more wintry mirth.

Yet blow, and roll the world about–

Blow, Time, blow, winter’s Wind!

Through chinks of time heaven peepeth out,

And Spring the frost behind.

8. Winds of May

       by James Joyce

Winds of May, that dance on the sea,

Dancing a ring-around in glee

From furrow to furrow, while overhead

The foam flies up to be garlanded,

In silvery arches spanning the air,

Saw you my true love anywhere?

Well day! Well day!

For the winds of May!

Love is unhappy when love is away

9. The Winds

       by Clark Ashton Smith

To me the winds that die and start,

And strive in wars that never cease,

Are dearer than the level peace

That lies unstirred at summer’s heart;

More dear to me the shadowed wold,

Where, with report of tempest rife,

The air intensifies with life,

Than quiet fields of summer’s gold.

I am the winds’ admitted friend:

They seal our linked fellowships

With speech of warm or icy lips,

With touch of west and east that blend.

And when my spirit listless stands,

With folded wings that do not live,

Their own assuageless wings they give

To lift her from the stirless lands.

10. The Wind

       by Theodore Harding Rand

The lithe wind races and sings

Over the grasses and wheat –

See the emerald floor as it springs

To the touch of invisible feet!

Ah, later, the fir and the pine

Shall stoop to its weightier tread,

As it tramps the thundering brine

Till it shudders and whitens in dread!

Breath of man! a glass of thine own

Is the wind on the land, on the sea –

Joy of life at thy touch! – full grown,

Destruction and death maybe!

11. The Wind

       by James Stephens

The wind stood up and gave a shout.

He whistled on his fingers and

kicked the withered leaves about

and thumped the branches with his hand

and said that he’d kill and kill,

and so he will and so he will.

Wind Poems for Kids

Children have a natural fascination with the world around them, and these wind poems for children capture the wonder and magic of the wind in a way that is accessible and engaging.

1. The Wind

       by Sara Teasdale

A wind is blowing over my soul,

I hear it cry the whole night through,

Is there no peace for me on earth

Except with you?

Alas, the wind has made me wise,

Over my naked soul it blew,

There is no peace for me on earth

Even with you.

2. The Wind

       by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

It’s like the light, —

A fashionless delight

It’s like the bee, —

A dateless melody.

It’s like the woods,

Private like breeze,

Phraseless, yet it stirs

The proudest trees.

It’s like the morning, —

Best when it’s done, —

The everlasting clocks

Chime noon.

3. The Wind in the Pines

       by Madison Julius Cawein

When winds go organing through the pines

On hill and headland, darkly gleaming,

Meseems I hear sonorous lines

Of Iliads that the woods are dreaming.

4. The Winds of Fate

       by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

One ship drives east and another drives west

With the self-same winds that blow;

‘Tis the set of the sails

And not the gales

That tells them the way to go.

Like the winds of the sea are the winds of fate

As we voyage along through life;

‘Tis the set of the soul

That decides its goal

And not the calm or the strife.

5. From the Wind

       by Eugene Field

The Wind he loveth the red, red Rose,

And he wooeth his love to wed:

Sweet is his song

The Summer long

As he kisseth her lips so red;

And he recketh naught of the ruin wrought

When the Summer of love is sped!

6. The Mad Wind

       by Clark Ashton Smith

What hast thou seen, O wind,

Of beauty or of terror

Surpassing, denied to us,

That with precipitate wings,

Mad and ecstatically,

Thou spur nest the hollows and trees

That offer thee refuge of peace,

And findest within the sky

No safety nor respite

From the memory of thy vision?

7. The Wind Was Rough Which Tore

       by Emily Brontë

The wind was rough which tore

That leaf from its parent tree

The fate was cruel which bore

The withering corpse to me

We wander on we have no rest

It is a dreary way

What shadow is it

That ever moves before eyes

It has a brow of ghostly whiteness

8. A Wind From God.

       by Jonathan Moya

It has been said, by

someone wiser than me,

that poetry is a wind from God.

Than why do I find

such beauty in

the rhyme of dirt—

Why do I listen

to the lonely voices

of dead poets—

Why do I want to

excavate their bones,

roll in them until they break—

or burn them in the

crematorium of my soul

to spread their ashes on my face.

No, Poetry is a forsaken voice

calling out to the wind

and hearing only an echo.

9. The Wind Watcher

       by Riley Prescott

Awake at night;

A wind whispers softly through the bedroom window.

A sudden spite;

A shiver runs down my spine as the wind blows

A weary caller;

A warning of things that could be.

The night is alive…

The warning, an unturned key.

Then with a bolt,

The uneasiness ceases to dwell.

All is calm.

The Wind Watcher calls that all is well.

Blowing Wind Poems

The wind can be both gentle and fierce, and these poems about the wind blowing capture its power and intensity in vivid and evocative language.

1. Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind

       by William Shakespeare

Blow, blow, thou winter wind

Thou art not so unkind

As man’s ingratitude;

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho!

unto the green holly:

Most friendship is feigning,

most loving mere folly:

Then heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,

That does not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot:

Though thou the waters warp,

Thy sting is not so sharp

As a friend remembered not.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho!

unto the green holly:

Most friendship is feigning,

most loving mere folly:

Then heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

2. Blow, Wild Wind, Blow!

       by Ralph Chaplin

Once more the wind leaps from the sullen land

with his old battle-cry.

A tree bends darkly where the wall looms high;

Its tortured branches, like a grisly hand,

Clutch at the sky.

Grey towers rise from gloom and underneath–

Black-barred and strong–

The snarling windows guard their ancient wrong;

But the mad wind shakes them, hissing through his teeth

A battle song.

O bitter is the challenge that he flings

at bars and bolts and keys.

Torn with the cries of vanished centuries

And curses hurled at long-forgotten kings

Beyond dim seas.

The wind alone, of all the gods of old,

Men could not chain.

O wild wind, brother to my wrath and pain,

Like you, within a restless heart I hold

A hurricane.

The wind has known the dungeons of the past

Knows all that are;

And in due time will strew their dust afar,

And singing, he will shout their doom at last

to a laughing star.

O cleansing warrior wind, stronger than death,

Wiser than men may know;

O smite these stubborn walls and lay them low,

Uproot and rend them with your mighty breath–

Blow, wild wind, blow!

3. Blowing in the Wind

       C. J. Krieger

There ain’t no answer here my friend

blowing or otherwise

it’s just the sound of the wind

and whatever you want hear

4. Blowing Wind

       by Norman Wilson 

A wind blows

through my heart

as it did once before

It has taken away my love

with treasures


In a field of green

our passions flowed

deep within the heather

We pledged our love

within the meadow

with promises

of together

The gales blow on my soul


And forever daunting

elicit to the sun

Filled with lust

and ripen offerings

before we were done


of her skin

And the dropping rain

Angst is in my heart

forever floundering

in a new world of pain

For the Sun’s light

no longer shines

on our love

where it pools within my eyes

It becomes the Darkness in my life

as the squall rages by Silently

in the dimness of my cries

That Darkness has taken away

all desires of her passion

which I did adore

As a wind blows

through my heart

as it did once before

5. Twisted Blowing Wind

       by Melimeli

Who am I?

You grow a wrapped sinful soul

You live life as indecent creature

You demand not to sacrifice

You torture with cruel objections

You distract heart with innocent sight

You pamper thought by right label

You walk time denying reality

You sing song in crowded orchestra

You whisper pray with poisoned heart

Where am I?

I live by tons of judgement

I live through cursed perception

I live inside diluted sights

I am who I am…

Discovering pile of sweet en bitter stories

Carrying no heart to pin labels

Living no second to craft realities

I stand steel..

Riding a vessel through an angry stream.

Flying a feather in rainy days…

Throwing the billion freedoms for a twisted blowing wind.

6. Blowing Wind

       by Rama Balasubramanian

Was thinking of

hardships of past

apprehensive about future

Sun said stop thinking

just enjoy the moment.

It found joyous bliss

7. How Does the Wind Blow?

       by Snorri

How does the wind blow

when there is no soul to hear it?

Does it whine,


Or lay still as a corpse?

Does it blow forever,

Oblivious to the loss?

Does it weep for its brother,

Whose face it once touched?

How does the wind blow?

I have asked the wind

Again and again

But never has it answered.

It looks like I shall never know.

Maybe it was I who lost his soul.

8. With the Wind Blowing Through My Hair

       by Anonymous 

I’m standing with you on the hill,

feeling calm with a moonlight chill,

Being with you gives me a thrill,

With the wind blowing through my hair…

I can’t keep my eyes off of you,

Looking lovely all dressed in blue,

For you there is naught I won’t do,

With the wind blowing through my hair…

Your hands, so gentle on my skin,

You know with that caress you’ll win,

I want you to touch me again,

With the wind blowing through my hair…

We’re standing closer than before,

And you know it’s you I adore,

I can’t help but feel I want more,

With the wind blowing through my hair…

How I love the feel of your kiss,

These moments are those of pure bliss,

I’ve known nothing better than this,

With the wind blowing through my hair…

Please o not let this moment end,

My love, you’re also my best friend,

I shall be with you through the end,

With the wind blowing through my hair…

9. Ode for the Wind-Blown Seed

       by Mary Lou Healy

We are all subject to the whims of wind,

even humble plants of forest and field.

Whether by its scorching sweeps we’re pinned

or by the shattering storms to which we yield.

The wind may kiss or kill, at its desire,

an element beyond our least control.

In cooling breath that calms, or touch of fire,

across the land it blows, fulfills its role.

It shakes us as it shakes the humble bloom

of dandelion, tears it from its place;

perhaps consigning it to fatal doom,

perhaps revealing its benevolent face.

For in dispersal of the precious seed,

wind guarantees the plant’s most urgent need.

Wind Poems and Love

The wind can be a powerful symbol of love and longing, and these wind poems explore the many ways in which this natural force can inspire and evoke feelings of passion and desire.

1. Gone With The Wind

       by Jacson Gelato

Gone with the wind

that love, that togetherness;

gone with the wind

that year of pain and unhappiness;

gone with the wind

the dreams of unfaithfulness;

gone with the wind

the yesterday of deceit;

gone with the wind

everyday that I spent holding you;

gone with the wind

many promises, many kisses;

gone with the wind

many bouquets of red roses;

gone with the wind

the songs I sang for you;

gone with the wind

the dancing and moonlight;

gone with the wind

many many hours of depression;

gone with the wind

the pain you left inside my heart;

gone with the wind

feelings of regrets;

gone with the wind

your memory;

gone with the wind

not today as I have found a new love.

2. The Dragon of Snow and Starlight

       by Ctsaitta

In our love for the wind and all that passes,

Each smote of self, a wisp of loss and absence,

Like the snow pendulous slips over last grasses,

In the glow of the lamppost and unholding fences:

So too the thousand-grains of breath

Blow through our bodies’ incandescence,

And in the starlit-smoke from the dragon’s mouth

On wings of filth swirl the bone-edge of death.

3. Ghosts in the Wind

        by Paul D Fisher

I have thought about why I love blustery whistling windy days so much.

I have a big old house on a hill and feel like I’m in a Victorian novel based movie.

I look down on the trees undulating like coy lovers in the breeze that whips houses.

I think of the people here in such places before me and I wonder if a bit stays behind.

What would they say to me if they could converse as I do with neighbors?

Is there anything that they could want to give or teach or to warn me then?

So that is why the poetical and romantic, mystical strain in me says ghosts in the wind.

4. Spring’s Fury

       by Joelene Smith

Springtime weather, wild and fierce,

A season of both joy and fear.

The creeks are swollen bursting banks,

As rains pour down in heavy ranks.

The winds howl loud, a mournful sound,

As trees bend low to kiss the ground.

The thunder roars with deafening might,

As lightning strikes, a dazzling sight.

Tornadoes spin, a whirling dance,

Destroying all in their advance.

But amidst this chaos and strife,

There’s also beauty in this life.

The flowers bloom, in vibrant hues,

And birdsong fills the air anew.

The earth awakens, fresh and green,

A sight to behold, a wondrous scene.

Spring’s fury may be harsh and rough,

But it also brings forth gentle love.

For amidst the storm and raging gale,

There’s also hope, that will prevail

5. Night Breeze

       by Anonymous 

Gazing at the stars,

In a beautiful night sky,

She feels the silent wind,

Just slowly passing by.

As the cool gentle breeze,

Caresses her skin,

It ruffles her dress,

Again and again.

As the waves from the ocean,

Cover the sand,

The wind sways her hair,

As she brushes it with her hand.

She stands with a smile,

In the light of the moon,

Hoping the breeze,

Will come back soon.

6. Calling My Name

       by Artimis Deanargo

I hear the wind calling my name,

a sound so strong that it leads me home again,

The beast in me roar to reply,

it’s in vain,

for others do not reconize my authority,

in name,

I’m a nomad by heart,

I search to find the birth of the wind,

while I search,

I do my sin,

no greater feeling catching the wind.

How do I do this? My tune up dode challenger

or a Harvey Motorcycle.

The beast in me reflect,

the beast I ride,

My destination,

the shore of the ocean tide.

Tide is pulling my emotion,

time is in slow motion,

The winds calls again, when do I stop,

I have a feeling I’ll know, when times up..

7. Travels Without a Care

       by Sadey Ivers

It flows through my hair

whistles in my ear

and travels without a care.

Moving and bending trees

swaying branches

and touching all the leaves.

On cold nights it yells

screeching and howling

and ringing all the bells.

It’s the wind that does these things

that bends the trees

and blows around a lot of things.

I wrote this,

as it flowed through my hair,

wistled in my ear,

and traveled without a care.

8. Howling Wind

       by Dorsey Baker

Howling wind, howling wind, caught the butterfly,

caught the bumble bee, but you ain’t gonna catch me-howling wind, howling wind,

Howling wind, howling wind, I won’t be your neighbor or your best friend-Howling wind, howling wind, Shaking my roof, rocking my floor,

howling wind, I hear you howling at my front door-

Howling wind,

Howling wind,

Howling wind-

9. The Wind

       by Kawaina Gordon

As the wind blows she sings in my ear

she sings me a song I so love to hear.

She sings of love, war and peace;

she is so gentle she’ll put your mind at ease.

As she sings the trees dance to the rhythm

from left to right the trees are swinging,

as there leaves rustle and bustle in the air

here she comes again singing clear.

So be quiet to hear her sing for lots of songs she will bring.

10. The Winds Concerto

       by Elaine George

I am the maestro

Of land sky and sea

I am

A living



Of many sounds

And sights

That I have found

Like the Boom

Of the ocean

When I lift her up

Then throw her down

Her roar

When I roll her

To crash upon the cliffs

Along the shore

Or the tinkling

Of her shattered pieces

Falling back

Into the tide

As I fly – Fly – Fly –



The blue

Of a North Carolinian sky


The burning sand

Slipping through

The slender

Sea Grasses

That whistle

As I tickle

Their every stand.

Whooshing –

Through the cities

And the towns


Bramble bushes

All around

Slamming shutters

And banging doors

Before I leave

Turning every leaf

On every tree

As I fly- Fly- Fly-

Higher and higher


The heavy black clouds

To make them cry

Their screams

So loud

They crack the sky

That thunders

In reply


Bolts of lighting

Pelting’s of rain

As I fly- Fly – fly –

Through the night

Into another day


My concerto

Comes to rest










Final Thoughts

The wind is a powerful force of nature that has fascinated and inspired poets for centuries.

From its gentle caresses to its fierce and tumultuous gusts, the wind has the ability to evoke a wide range of emotions and experiences.

Whether through funny and lighthearted poems, inspirational messages of growth and transformation, or romantic odes to love and longing, wind poems offer a unique and captivating perspective on this elemental force.

Whether you are seeking to be transported by the beauty of language and imagery or to simply appreciate the wonder of the natural world, poems for wind are sure to enchant and inspire.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *