Feeble fretful winds

Feeble fretful winds I owe you; old and few new,
Unanswered raindrops, my numbing pain,

Your platonic nibbles. I owe you
Eighty-nine letters --- some random lies,

One hobbling horse-rig
Dry flowers you collected, a parched twig!
You overlooked,  I need not embrace them anymore, and I can’t sing.
I have a Clef full fog, gloom, and mist. I am my pensive king.
Notations are ruminating fine;
Time’s eating time, one more musing rhyme.
Don’t worry; I leave all drenching nights and a bleak sky
You owe me two solitary dinners, look I’m not shy!
I will run, I drank your ambrosial air
The weather did not mislead, but that’s life! Your hair
Made me thirsty; I will not care for your nectar.
I am a walking blessed thicket, analgesia, nights long
I shall sing the loony tunes of your sodden songs.
I am sleeping well. Now-a-days, I write songs.

Once I was falling till my dreams woke me up
I was one splendid null, your swindler made me sharp.