Close Enough For The Moon (Part IV)

The breeze is often loud,
Louder than the whimper;
The whimper that astounds,
And astounding is no simpler!

No simpler than the joy;
Joyous as you are,
While you begin to ploy,
Ploy a plan that seems afar.

Further you go, and see,
Seeing whatever seems only tender,
And these tender thoughts heave,
Heave a sigh of blunder.