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The Window1/5/2020 A crossed white frame
Some patterned fabric all tied It's heard calling my name but blocking me from going outside Gushing through greens, wild feathered creatures soar by whilst they rest upon trees and hum as they fly Drifting all through Sheltering us from the beams Weightless marshmallows up in blue Partnered with a ball of fire that gleams Dreaming through the panes Wishing to see the rise of dawn A dreadful tugging of my views because I know the blue cloth must be drawn Contributor: Abbey O'Brien, Year 8
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