Windows of Gold
A house with golden windows sits on a hill
Their bright morning beauty erasing the chill
The view from my windows as sun wakes from night
Each morning I’m greeted with this wondrous sight
Rising each day my soul feels drawn to that view
Grass pathway adorned with frost or sparkling dew
Always changing yet always the same to see
They sail on the green ocean and sky blue sea

As the sun rises gold windows disappear
Reflections of morning sun fading to clear
Slowly the windows lose their rich golden hue
The windows dull and lose their enticing view
Day passes, darkness falls, lights inside now burn
I’m overjoyed when the gold windows return
Not as lovely as an electrical stream
And not nearly as bright with a man-made gleam

The full moon appears with its pale ghostly face
Imparting its light with soft milky white trace
Casting deep blue shadows on tall drifts of snow
Weathered barn turns silver in the moonlight’s glow
The mundane becomes an ethereal sight
Old things become new in the magic moonlight
A crystal path shines in the dark and the chill
To silver windows in the house on the hill

Mountain silhouettes rise in the eastern sky
Subtle dim band appears as daybreak draws nigh
The horizon turns pink at the break of dawn
Waking a mother deer and her spotted fawn
The band grows stronger painting the clouds with light
First crimson, then flaxen, and finally white
The light overspills growing stronger until
It gilds the windows of the house on the hill