Snow

Little white flakes
      come tumbling down
Like little white feathers
      falling all around.
As they reach the bottom
      they don't make a sound;
Turning into water
      as they touch the ground.

--Sandra Doolin
copyrights 1979, 2005 by Sandra J. Dykes
All rights reserved

Bon Voyage

Someday
When my ship comes in
I'll climb aboard and sail away
On the ocean deep;
Where the albatross play
and the waters don't sleep.
My voyage, sure, has been my take,
Upon my ship I shall awake
To navigate my life of toil,
Returning home I kiss the soil.