Outside My Window For Contest

A lonely old wooden swing suspended in complete stillness Gripped by ropes stained with memories of childhood It hangs faithfully to the strong arms of the huge oak tree Golden leaves hang off the dry rippled branches by a thread Their yellow and brown comrades surround them A gentle wind sending them fluttering on their last flight Through musty damp air down to wet ground below The dreaded smell of death for non-deciduous trees The swing waits patiently and calm Protected by its giant friend It starts to sway slowly back and forth Demonstrating its approval from outside my window As I present my new born daughter to her future friends Sarah Bryant 16 September 2015