His Window (poem)

He stares through window at the world he made

Aglow with all the time that he spent there

Each flower joins the thankful serenade

To one whose heart made time to show his care

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The roses that he planted are in bloom

And nesting birds are singing in his trees

Amidst the dew a rainbow shows its plume

As ballerinas dance amid the breeze

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Through his window life puts on a show

It calls to him this father of this all

It calls to him from whom it got its glow

And if he’s gone each moment they’ll recall

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It’s then they saw his lonely window close

And no one cared and no one even cried

Who was this stranger only heaven knows

Who shed a final smile before he died

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grand old lady 2 years ago from Philippines

Ordinarily, I wouldn't like a poem about a garden but when you add the man who made it, it becomes very interesting as we see it through his eyes. I also love the magical part about the ballerinas. It's a beautiful piece of work.

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