The Story of the Winds – Written Monday 11th January 1993 (Aged 17)

The Story of the Winds

the children fled the mountain of death only to face their toughest test
this was no child’s game of fun
now they faced the nuclear druids and a dying sun
the world was new but so old and weary
life had lost its quest and the dying sun had made it so dreary
how could the people love when every situation was teary
and so the story of the nuclear druids and the dying sun had begun
it was a time when mystic powers and magic was something everybody could understand
no slight of hand, the world was young
in the noon the children fled to barren mound with its spirits abound
it was on that day of change that the children were never seen again
it was a night when a sun died a blissful death and with the arrival of dawn a new one came
the nuclear druids roared like a thousand tortured screams and lost their misty eyes
on that day more than birds sang, some called it a new man, some simply said nothing
but they all watched the organised screams join the skies
in the village the women sat and weeped out mournful cries
not for for the nuclear druids now part of earth’s many skies
but for the darling daring children who sacrificed their lives
for a world not ruled by the nuclear druids or trouble or strife
but a world that contained respect and a love of life
now their elements are a powerful air
listen through the cracks, listen to the trees, even feel them through your hair
the children are everywhere looking over, always ready to care
if you do not believe me, open the doors of your mind and look everywhere
just remember before them there was no powerful air
some say the children are in agony because the wind is always there
looking for their moths who they want so much to care
always looking through forests and sky but never finding them there

James Garratt – Monday 11th January 1993

More poems at

More about this blog, The Boy Behind the Glasses, here

More poems from 1993 here

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