By My Window

Mornings by my window I write

Words come with ease by early light

At oaken desk with pen in hand

I watch the sun rise on the land

Red maple tree, sparrows in flight

Mornings by my window I write

Lasso the mist on distant glen

With ink which flows from anxious pen

Rivers dry up then overflow

Springtime rain turns to winter snow

Mornings by my window I write

Of changing seasons, nature’s flight

Trees shed leaves, yellow tulips bloom

I see all from within my room

Voyeur of my world, nothing trite

Mornings by my window I write

© Copyright pending Susan R. O'Brien