It was in the Dead of Winter I saw them,
glowing under deep fallen snow.
Eerie fluorescence showing supernatural.
Strange lights somehow comforting,
giving promise of warmth in the harshest pall.
In summer, the lamps will brightly shine,
a pond the lights circle round.
The fish will swim and the waters sing,
the garden gaily lit. The glow from under
the winter snow, says soon it will be Spring.
flows like a brook in winter, anticipating spring's arrival. `spring is at your back again, this time rare with your clarity.' ...keep on, goldy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well done Roger a very pleasant read thanks. keep em coming Regards Dave T..