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Structured Poetry- Advanced \

The Frosty Hours



The Frosty Hours
By jjwilliamson on 06/06/2017
Viewed: 77
Reviews: 4
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My little house is wrapped in snow,
the evergreens are frosted, so
I'll leave a tray of cake and bread
to complement the winter show.

A robin chatters overhead;
he sees me place this ample spread,
then flutters down to take his share
and proudly flaunt his patch of red.

By nine a.m. the tray is bare,
I note an odour in the air,
then find the spattered gable end;
an urban fox has lingered there.

I worry for my tiny friend,
remove the tray and then suspend
a net of fruit and buttered neeps
to see if I can make amends.

The evening drifts are crisp and deep;
the bird returns and seems to keep
a vigil when I turn to sleep,
for we have promises to keep.

? By jjwilliamson On 6/6/2017 3:38:05 PM
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