BEHIND THE GLASS WINDOW

Come spring time

My mind long for your sweet caress 

We are at the door of winter 

And it's frosty voice 

Creates a lingering chill

That confines my happiness 

Today I visit the attic 

Digging out the overcoats 

Of last year's blizzards 

And winter storms 

I am reminded of the ice showers 

That traveled from the east

Carried by that furious wind 

That left me shivering in my aching skin  

My tropical blood enjoys 

The heat of the summer  

Feeling the energy of the sun 

From early morn to day's end 

But old man's winter 

Is an offense to me

Though pure as the driven snow 

He will never be my friend.

By

Wilford Barker.