Warm Winter Day
The wind it whistles wafting through the back porch screen today,
A lonely leaf is lifted high all dancing in its play,
The warm air gathers comforting; a sign of true portent,
Though winter’s here our spring is near with hope of its intent.
A single crow is cawing in the barren wood so near,
The buds upon Dogwood tree still closed with fervent fear,
That Jack his frozen fingered frost would nip a flower too soon,
And, we would lose the glory of the Dogwood’s glorious boon.
The roses nothing more than sticks to untrained naked eye,
They sleep below all blanketed in mounds of mulch and sigh,
And, dreaming reds, and pinks and orange and even bits of blue,
In celebration of new life that comes for me and you!
Peter Lowell Paulson
January 29, 2013
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