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Midwinter Notes.
The gift of a robin's song
so sweetly sung above my head,
with notes of joy that fall
unto the heart.
Rarely seen the way-fare deer
now stepping, soft of cloven hoof
upon the new born Christmas Day.
And greying shades of reminiscience
tumble through the mind
as silent, as the bough-led
squirrel leaping.
Longer hours, at night's recoil
shall urge the spring to call,
and though the winter's touch is keen
the spring has opened now her eyes.
One Fine Image!
"...winter's touch is keen..." Well said - yrpoempalfromsnowymichigan :D
Thank you, I haven't seen a
Thank you, I haven't seen a deer outside my back garden for ages, I looked out on Christmas morning and there he was, happily wandering about, with the two squirrels leaping about above his head, the best present I could have. xx