Feathers on my window pane,
Tell me winter’s here again.
Elfin hands paint lines at night,
That morning’s sun, shows so bright.
Though the feathers look like glass,
With winter’s sun they cannot last.
Like a dream they fade away,
‘Til nothing’s left in the day.
Come the night they reappear,
As the sun does disappear.
Each cycle brings to my view,
Winter feathers always new.
Copyright 2013, John Paul Mueller
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Author: John
John Mueller is a freelance author and technical editor. He has writing in his blood, having produced 123 books and over 600 articles to date. The topics range from networking to artificial intelligence and from database management to heads-down programming. Some of his current offerings include topics on machine learning, AI, Python programming, Android programming, and C++ programming. His technical editing skills have helped over more than 70 authors refine the content of their manuscripts. John also provides a wealth of other services, such as writing certification exams, performing technical edits, and writing articles to custom specifications. You can reach John on the Internet at [email protected].
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