She walks in the forest with crumbs in her hand
he swoops in for food and things, "contraband "
its a New Year of love a New Year of Hope
and all the pines trees are trying to cope...
Weighed down by the snow a snowman on gin
wants confetti for lunch with a mouthful of tin
She douses the light on the darkness so tragic
and all of a sudden we are clothed in magic
no quandary nights all past demons are gone
the Angel of Hope has designed and redrawn
The weather is lovely from her to down under
the brook gurgles softly with silence as thunder
When the ball drops in town we all clap in cheer
we're healthy once more like the Arlington deer
She walks from the vineyard all full of pure joy
the C words have died, thanks to Helen of Troy
Confetti is falling from a snowflake blue sky
we're healthy once more and we're ready to fly
A poem of fantasy nicely drawn from that beautiful artwork.
The sparrows here are deathly afraid of my partner as she generously feeds them every day. They should be eating out of her hand. But they are city dwellers, and therefore quite skittish for fear of their lives. Our windows that they often fly into are much more dangerous than the cats in the hawks that are city dwellers as well.
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The sparrows here are deathly afraid of my partner as she generously feeds them every day. They should be eating out of her hand. But they are city dwellers, and therefore quite skittish for fear of their lives. Our windows that they often fly into are much more dangerous than the cats in the hawks that are city dwellers as well.
Ron
And they say poets aren't prophetic.
For shame!
Regis. 🙏🌲💛🌳🍁
Let us hope the Angel of Hope’s Magic
is strong…
I love this delightful, quirky poem,
with adorable illustration…
Happy New Year!
Diana…