In your hands a piece of burlap
Brown and plain -
Useful all the same.

You stretch out the wrinkles,
Brush off the dust
The cloth lies before you in absolute trust

Your needle works quickly.
A garland of thread
Textures the fabric in deep shades of red.

Now the brown foundling
Shimmers like gold.
As intricate petals begin to unfold.

From barren to blossom,
In a rainbow of hue
A rose has awakened
Created by you.

I heard the songbirds today
As the sun rose steadily over eastern rooftops
No longer a still small beacon
Fighting its way through icy crystals
Today a loud bright light
Streaming over frozen roadways and sidewalks.

I heard the songbirds today
As I stood in my glassed-in porch
Clad in robe and overcoat
My morning cup of coffee steaming in the crisp cold air.

Today the howling wind replaced
With sweet bird chatter.
Laughter.
Bird song laughing winter away.

“Soon,” I thought, “I will go through the door
And sit on my step in the early morning
To find my face and fingers warmed by sweet summer sun.”

Could it be spring?”

Goin’ to the farm.
See that dirt road wind.
I’m leavin’ all the problems
Of the city far behind.
Goin’ to where the grass is green
And the sky is blue.
Just me and happiness
And you –
If you wanna come, too.

Drivin’ down the road
Feeling good and fancy-free.
Goin’ to that country place.
That’s where I want to be.
Goin’ to where the grass is green
And the sky is blue.
Just me and happiness
And you –
If you wanna come, too.