Our window is a magic frame
With pictures never twice the same.
Sometimes it frames a sunset sky,
Where clouds of gold and purple lie.
And sometimes, on a windless night,
It holds a great moon round and white.
Sometimes it frames a lawn and flowers,
Where children play through summer hours.
Sometimes, a tree of gold and red
And grass where crisp brown leaves are shed.
And sometimes it shows wind-blown rain
Or snowflakes against the pane.
Our window frames all lovely things
That every changing season brings.


This poem is in the public domain.