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The following poems come from Winifred Margaret Clary,
Through My Window (Forward Press, Ltd, Peterborough, England) and are
copyrighted by Mrs. Clary. They are shown on this website by her kind
permission.
The Seasons
January/February
Now is the time when birds do strut and sing
And waxy snowdrops cross-stitch greener grass;
Widely now our windows open fling
And watch dread winter slowly from us pass,
June
Skeleton trees arc flushed with green,
Piping song all day surrounds us,
Swallows, once more on wires are seen,
Manuscript music to astound us.
September
The settling sun still warms the earth
A golden stillness holds the land
Nature's palette brings to birth
Colours brushed with a magic wand.
December
Trees are dancing in the wind
Icy rain stings every roof:
Our curtains drawn before we've dined,
That winter's come, it is the proof.
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Garden Visitors
At this mornings frosty dawn,
My creatures wait on me:
An expectant squirrel by the lawn
An impatient robin in his tree.
I work the noisy casement latch;
The squirrel lifts a tiny paw,
And deftly does his breakfast catch
As I throw it through the door.
Hot on his trail the robin comes
Staring with his bright bold eye,
To finish off the squirrel's crumbs
And, hunger eased, then away does fly.
Not so my squirrel: at the door
His tiny visage pleads for more!
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