Wind

The wind is wild,
Shaking the trees.
The ones that have hives,
Those are unlucky bees.

The leaves are twisting,
Turning and falling.
If you like nature,
It’s quite appalling.

There are many strong gusts,
That pulls down some branches.
Whacking and smacking,
Everyone blanches.

Meanwhile at the park,
There’s a game of frisbee.
It goes high up,
And gets caught in a tree.

Everyone wants to,
Protest to the wind.
For one small reason,
The wind had sinned.