Being in a meadow in the month of March
I see the wind coming to me with a march
It shakes the oak tree and it's branch
Wanting to stay with the wind, not in a company branch

The wind touches me as a soft kiss
Which touches my lips with a sound of hiss
Dancing with this mushy mild breeze
A lovely environment which won't make me freeze

This time you stamp tender on the meadow
But when you are red you slamp on my window
Wind, you made me happy at last
I will forget your anger of the past

Having a doubt from where you come
From the mountains, oceans or any other some?
Every March will you come to me?
This little girl is waiting to be