Our wind of change

She huffs as she puffs & blows down through her mound, a whistling wind with an eerie sound
Mother nature’s  mercurial melancholy, solid hating all lightness of folly
Whilst her mood is an emotional, kaleidoscopic will
She is capable of creating an almighty chill

Her breathing may be breathless, so restfully calm, but in the blink of an eye she can intend it to harm
Blowing whilst blasting air agitating it around, fanning with fortitude in directional bound
Causing chaos & catastrophy such a steamroller storm, as she clings on with all strength to her cloud platform

Our wind of change is an unpredictable force, an unfathomable element from our atmospherical source
Be it January, February, March,April or may
She shall deliver her draft down to Earth come what may