Tears flowing in the wind,
Dust taken for a spin.
All around me they dance,
Wherever I glance.
Swaying gracefully they fall,
Merciful they are small.
Not for them a thudding crash,
As they never arrive in a flash.
Arriving constant, light and gentle,
This can drive me mental.
Accumulating in a pile,
Doing it with some style.
Never ending dust in air,
All day long at them I stare.
I wonder from where they come?
They are even on my thumb.
Seeing dust, can bring me tears,
Fed up cleaning all these years.
Hope they’re gone by light of day,
As I need some time to play.