poem called a breeze

I like the breeze on a calm,quiet day.Its relaxing to hear the leaves blow and the trees sway.Its like the ocean with out the beach or the water.When it blows i feel it brush past my hairlike its nothing.When I walk on the grass,It feels The chickens have escapedly but bushy,now little tiny bits of rain trickle on my cheek,it feels like tiny feathers are brushing my face and arms