Untitled Poem

A sudden wind was blowing by
which hit my face and stung my eye.
An eye thus stung might seem to cry,
but I’m not sad; the wind is why
I have these tears. As for the sigh
I seemed to sigh, I cannot lie:
I did sigh, but I didn’t try
to sigh; my singing went awry
when suddenly my voice did die
and voicelessly my song did fly.
I tell you that my mood is high
and there’s no need to deeper pry.