THE WINDMILL

High atop a hillside green,
Stands the windmill, straight and tall;
Sometimes the wind, it blows so hard,
I wonder why it does not fall.

A lonely sentinel, standing guard,
Yet it had a job to do;
It's blades spun faster high on top
Depending on winds that blew.

It pumps cool water from the ground;
To fill up a large holding tank.
Whenever there's need for water, then,
There's always the windmill to thank.

In the day you can see it rotating,
In the night, you can hear the sound,
Of the windmill pumping water,
To bring life to a dry parched ground.

For years it's stood upon the hill,
So many stories it could tell;
But it just keeps spinning quietly,
And doing its job very well.

Jay Cee ~ ~
© Jean Clark

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First Published:  06-Mar-2006 10:09 PM   -   Last Update:   02-Oct-2007 02:34 PM
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