As though a bird had sung with woe On white-washed wings o'er fields of snow To a rooftop perch where winter wept Beneath, a bed where father slept Warmed by a tender fire's glow. And in the maple 'gainst the sill Atop the sawdust at the mill A silent wind so seldom heard Had spoken thus a forlorn word And chimneys danced in winter's thrill. By the brook beyond the barn Where cords of cottonwood lined the yard Sapling oaks like memories grown And weathered cheeks of men furrowed Yet safe like laughter from winter's harm. In the midst of starry bliss A songbird hummed for those who missed The evident beauty of the land Once green now white in mother's hand With all the loveliness of a kiss. In a field where snowflakes dwell Slept a solitary wishing well Where once young children came to play Now ice unpretentious came to stay As winter in a fury fell. But in a cabin by the wood A tender hand did father good Where on the walls his children framed Beyond the hearth he'd winter tamed Though mother did as best she could.
Reason for writing:
This poem is a dedication to my father's wife, Barbara.
Birth sign: Not entered
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