The Breeze

The swishing fresh breeze
Gallivanting in and out of the room
Blowing up the curtains,
Seeking free any stale feel
Cheering up the wind chimes
In the dark moonless night
Then softly rushing in
Blanketing all dreams in sight
Enveloped in her mirth
Dancing till the sun makes its climb
Caressing all on its way
A tendril, a book or grime
Stirring up birds from sleep
Laughing at their helplessness
As if the cloak of the night
Grants her, her boisterousness
Twirling like a ballerina
With few hours at hand
Sliding through every crevice
Before dawn makes her bid farewell