Winter's End

Poem By Sibyl M. Kellman

When muddy footprints
cross the floor
they breathe of magic
held in store
of winter's end.
Warm days descend.
Soft breezes round
the sycamore
to linger at
my kitchen door
and buds unbend.
They form a verdant canopy,
a nesting place
for company
that swiftly blend
their noble notes in harmony
with brooklets
bursting to run free
to oceans end.

Comments about Winter's End

I found myself caught up in the rhythm while the rhyme led me on. very nice.

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Other poems of SIBYL M. KELLMAN

Eternal Clock

Sometimes I feel
the sea in me
as if through all
eternity the ebb and flow

Unconditionally Human

Within our precious habitat I pray
there will be tenderness and love each day.
However, there is also this to say—
our mortal feet