The Lonely Windmill

More about The Lonely Windmill

The lonely windmill stands tall and still,
On a hilltop, overlooking the fields until,
The wind begins to pick up and blow,
And the blades spin, to and fro.
It creaks and groans, in the gusty breeze,
As if yearning for company, longing to seize,
The attention of anyone passing by,
To share its solitude, and hear its sigh.
For days and nights, it keeps on turning,
A silent sentinel, never stopping or yearning,
Watching over the land, day and night,
In its lonely vigil, without a single light.
Yet, even in its isolation, it perseveres,
A testament to strength, through the years,
A symbol of resilience, for all to see,
The lonely windmill, standing proudly.