when I get to winter
let me think of the spring
for there is peace
in the remembering
when life was new
and all was green
so much sadness
still unseen;
all that goodness
still remains
a part of me -
I hear the strains
of comforting birds
and sunshine's rays
in peacefulness on
the grassy plain
where kind folks dwell
just over the hill -
no matter the winter,
I'll live there still.
