The Wind Spinners

The wind spinners

The wind spinners spun in the breeze

With such force and with grace

The pretty shapes as in a race

They spin and spun

Stop and start

They catch the wind

They spin and spin

They do not stop

The bright colours spins

The bronze spinner spins

You cannot see the beginning

You cannot see the end

The colours mix and blend

Psychedelic

Your eyes cannot keep up

Like paintbrush strokes going around and around

Feels a hundred miles an hour or the speed of sound

The wind spun in the breeze

Toria

4/7/2021