Winter Journey Poem by Douglas Gibson

How good to come again by gay red coach
Through mile on mile of country white with snow,
Past grey-green hangars where the tired planes rest
And white sleeves in the wind show gales still blow
From North: they point the eager road I come
Past villages and farms, the bare trees black
Against the weighted sky. Dark waters run
Beneath the blue-white ice, and crows still crack
The frozen land for food. But my heart comes
Far faster than these wheels; it leaps to you
Swift as a bird in flight across the fields
Where haystacks wear white caps, and chimney's blue
Smoke pennants are unfurled. I singing come
Across the Cotswold hills, across this space,
Until I see you waiting in the room
With that quick light of welcome in your face.