The Window

by Barbara Miles Jackson

Frogen in a space of time,
Feeling nine years old,
Looking through a glass,
A tree aglo with angles,
Bright colored lights,
Gift boxes hint the season.
In blue a toy soldier,
Beating his drum.
Trains rounding a village,
With snow covered roofs,
Next door another window,
With a nativity scene.
Complete with baby Jesus,
Mary, Joseph, wise men,
Shepherd boy and lamb.
Now feeling snow flakes,
Swiveling in the air,
As they nestle on the ground,
Caroler sang carols,
Under the street light.
Down the walkway,
Lights like candles.
In the sky - a bright star.


Barbara B-Miles Jackson's picture

Barbara B-Miles Jackson, born in 1948, grew up in Texas, studied poetry as a student in school. The poetry of other poets inspired me to go forward, changing myself when I could not change my situation. I one child and two grandchildren., Later needing a way of expression and focus, I turned to writing poems. Writing reminds me, we must travel through life situations with as much grace and dignity as possible., I started writing in 1995 for an Open Poetry Contest with National and International Library of Poetry. Most In the US and other in Europe.

Last updated November 21, 2016