My Winter Bed Poem by BARRY WYATT JR.
My Winter Bed
The water on my walls
has turned to stone
As cold winds blow
through my house
I shut my eyes
and sail through blue skies
To a pleasant Land of love
With birds singing in the trees
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: birds,house
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
All of my stories are true
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8/28/2026 12:48:57 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Icy cold frozen with love thank you