Through the open, curtained window
Blows the sweet, scented air
Of the late afternoon sunshine;
Outside, the boughs rustle
And toss in the breezy wind;
Beyond them are the woods,
With its enchanted pathways,
Winding through the orchards,
Bearing its rosy harvests.
And, rising high above it all is
a great mountain of snowy clouds
in the soft, serene blue sky,
With a glimpse of a distant,
white-capped, blue sea -
on which floats, like a jewel,
The emerald isles of paradise.

© MIRIAM JACOB