A Winter Day's Life
by Barbara Lynn Terry

I look out of my window at all the snow
and I just know, I just know
we are not done with this white powder
that through some mystic magic has the power

To be able to sing to those whose inner selves
have nothing better to do than to delve
in to the highest snow bank with their sleds
hoping they can warm up in the shed

The laughter of the children making a snowman
the loud, boisterous snowball fights
the skiing down a small hill
pretending it is a mountainside.

But in our older age, can we be as carefree
bundled up from here to there
and can hardly move with all the layers of clothing
that we dare not leave the house not wearing?

Oh the fun and guileless innocence that exudes
from the tiny little people we call children
makes the heart grow warmer
and ever so very happy.

© 2012 by Barbara Lynn Terry