Island Winds

The wind that rose at dawn rag eat through the trees, Swooped down upon the hay andX. lashed the seas To screaming fury on the reef. PUeat

high

The sand against the huts, andX strewed the sky With tattered clouds. And then it* raced away And all was still until the close of\ day.

Then from the south a small windX came, a vagrant Wind that murmured through thez palms, fragrant And warm. Beneath its hushedX caress the night Wrapped all the world in sleep. Thes stars were bright And close ; and through the nights, the island lay — A painted island on a painted bay . .

Marjorie C. Mclaughlin.