Sonnet X Poem by Joshua Adeyemi

The purposed wind who traveled restlessly amidst the trees,
To reach his destination atleast.
'Let me pass', He'd to the sycamore said,
But the latter delayed to have him led.
The sun pulling off the old cloak,
Looking straight his hand, at the clock.
The waking hibiscus and the gentle rose,
Stretching at the course of revival, touching the water's nose.
The strong waves clattering heavily,
Beseeching the riff to drop abruptly.
The gentle breeze shuddering amidst the heat's thorn,
Perservering to have the right have it's turn.
These all assembles in agreement and paves a way,
For the longing, curious and daintly blessed hay.
18: 03: 05: 23: 57