Fumbling forth frantically,
From the far off fort of the firmament,
Forever feeling its flustering frolic,
From far before fragmented futility flew,
Figments fetched from fascination,
Fears fall foul at this fatiloquist,
Figs fumble for flight,
From the fixation of the wind.
Heaving his howling hush,
Humming his hectic harmony,
Hems of haste heading home,
Humbles me as his host,
Helps with his honored honesty,
Holds high in this,
The hovering hood of the wind.
Shouting sheer shalom,
Shoves shadows, shielding me as a shroud,
Shivers stretch from the showering stratosphere,
Somber shoulders suddenly soar,
Shirt flutters, from the shreds of the wind.