When winterís sky dawns bleak and grey,
My thoughts turn to flower scents born on the wind of a spring day.


I think of sun, birds on their return flights,
And all the wonder of springís delight.

Never mind the cold, wind and sleet.
My mind is elsewhere in a warm retreat.


Swaying trees in a soft, spring breeze,
My mind manufactures as if to tease.

The weather calls for dropping temps and bitter chill,
But I think of fishing on the green bank of the old mill.


Baby Robins, pussy willows and opening buds whirl through my head,
As I snuggle down in my warm downy bed.

Soon the calendar pages will reveal the time is near,
And the return of spring that I hold so dear.


Yes, it will return when the time is right.
Until then, Iíll dream with all my might.


 

 

 

 


Watch these pages for other poems by Phyllis Ann.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.



But I Can't Sing
The Annual Physical
Simple Pleasures

January

Haiku By Mikey (Norma)

A Cowboy's Touch

Kinds Of Poets

Dear, Are You There?

The Calendar

Birds

Sniper Cat

Hugs And Kisses

True Love

A Child's Secret

Kissing And Hugging




And.......for many others, click the index image.



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http://graphicsbymarilyn.com

graphicsbymarilyn@yahoo.com