Poetry: Peach blossom bloomed as gorgeous as bloom rain

By: Amoureax Amant

You were hustle fall wind whispered my name,

drifting through southern land toward my arm,

perhaps you marched over every mountain,

perhaps you acrossed through every ocean.

You were north wind drifted through plain and farm,

passing through where shepherds danced around flame,

perhaps you witnessed goats streamed through curtain,

perhaps you witnessed clouds set setting sun.

You were sweet wind carried with osmanthus,

flowing over ten miles with aromas,

perhaps you waved west lake rippled wave line,

perhaps you stirred white clouds over skyline.

You turning wind drifted through fifty miles,

toward south town where people wore on smiles.