I watch beyond my window warm,
The melting snows of winter’s storm,
On a pole a house is resting high,
Awaiting my feathered friends to fly-
From windows, perch, and morning light,
They soon all return from their winter’s flight.
Then we again fine neighbors will be,
Enjoying the Spring, my Martins and me.
2/4/05
Gary Bryson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/martins/
