Have you ever stood on a blustery hill,
And listened to the whispers of the wind?
Let me paint you a picture, if you will,
Of the tale that the zephyr penned and grinned.

Upon the meadow, where the daisies bloom,
There lies a tale of love, joy, and despair.
In the heart of England, amidst the gloom,
An epic tale of lovers fair and rare.

A maiden fair, with eyes of sapphire blue,
And a noble knight, in armor shining bright.
Their love pure, their hearts forever true,
They danced under the moon’s soft silver light.

“Thou art my sun, my moon,” the knight did say,
“Without thee, my world is but shades of grey.”

The maiden blushed, her heart aflutter wild,
In his strong arms, she felt like a child.
“Thy love is my beacon through the dark,
A lighthouse guiding me, a fiery spark.”

But fate was cruel, as often it is,
Their love story wasn’t meant for bliss.
A war was waged; the knight was called to fight,
Leaving the maiden alone in the endless night.

With every tick of the clock, her heart did ache,
For her beloved knight’s life was at stake.
But she held on to the promise he’d made,
That upon his steed, he’d return and serenade.

The wind whispers this tale of old,
A story of love, brave and bold.
So, stand on a hill, listen and you’ll find,
The whispered wonders of the wind, unconfined.

I hope you enjoyed this traditional English poem, written in iambic pentameter. It is a reflection of the timeless tales that the wind carries, tales of love, valor, and the ever-present hand of fate. Stay tuned for more stories and poems from Tina.