Reflections from an Open Window
Linda Raha's Writing Corner
I came upon a winter garden, and I found an enchanted place. The Holly bushes were such a sight with their red berries burning bright. The squirrels, they scampered with delight, their bushy tails, so thick with fur. It made me laugh to watch them; they put on such a show. The birds, they flew
I step outside into a world of winter-white. It is like stepping into a photograph, the remembrance of a time, not so very long ago. The years have come and gone, like drifts of the deepest snow I must pass through. Still, I feel the wind upon my face; I touch my cheeks, remember the
I have dearly loved the work of certain poets, and they have enriched my life, but the poetry of life itself is something altogether different. It too, has a meter and a beat, lines that are melancholy, and lines that are sweet. The poetry presents itself to us each day, a new page yet unwritten.