Windy corners on windy days, Turn the corner, the wind’s in your face. It catches your breath, brings tears to your eyes, Makes you gasp and makes you cry.
Wind through the trees, rustling and whistling, Wind through the bushes, bustling and bristling. Whipping your coat around your knees, Hair in your eyes caught in the breeze.
Litter is scattering down the street, Leaves are scuttering round your feet, Shop signs are swaying, rusty and creaking, Doors slam shut, their hinges squeaking.
Your cheeks are rosy, your skin is tingling, The wind on your face is harsh and stinging. Children are running, the wind turns them wild, Caught in the wind you feel like a child.
Gusty and blustering windy days, Sweeping and swirling every which way. Go with the wind, let it take you along, Lifting your spiris with its howling song.
Anne Crofton Dearle 
I had a freind, he’s passed, who use to tell me his favorite thing about the wind, was how you could hear it coming through the trees, long before it gets to you. This poem somehow reminded me of that, Inspirational poetry. (~_~)
Interesting how the first stanza stands apart from the others — serves as sort of an introduction — very nice choice. Very nice open unfettered meter.