Screenprint with chine colle
The wind is a pervert,
Playfully tugging at girls skirts,
Reaching down peoples tops,
And in a frenzy whipping up the leaves
Into a revolt, then sending them to mischief.
Then he stops, as if tired from playing,
Sulking like a disobedient dog when confronted.
The trees stop swaying and the leaves stop swirling,
And the world sighs with relief,
Then with an insolent smile he starts again.
He picks up exactly where he left off.
Hurling dirt, twigs and leaves at passers by.
Blowing raspberries from the heavens.
He invites his friends to join him,
To wreak havoc on the world, Thunder and Lightning.
Oh yes the wind is a pervert,
Toying with the skirts of passers by.
Then the worlds had enough.
He reaches out and hits the winds rear end,
Sending the wind running in terror followed by his friends.