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Panna Cottage

Small-paned white windows
speckled by Winterís rain.
Embroidered grey sky,
snow forecast once again.

Black spindly branches'
bold freehand strokes, 
sap ivy fringed around
old tangled oaks.

Into this picture frame
one bright red ball
bouncing on a woolly hat
spins past my wall.

Watched by a tiny bird
mirrored in glass
through small white windows.
These moments pass.

Maggie McLean


If you have any thoughts on this poem, Maggie McLean 
would be pleased to hear them.


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