The Window.

It's cold outside.
It's frozen inside.
The window on my bed-side
Always changes colours.

It was bright blue in the morning.
Golden yellow in the noon.
Lush green in the evening,
Turning to midnight blue.

I can see
A dust full of stars,
When the stallions gallop by,
In the blazing sun.

I can't see
A twinkle in the Knight's armour,
But, emotions
In his eyes, undone.

I can feel
The breeze
And the storm
Through the thick glass.

I can touch
The carriages,
Dark ebony,
That go past.




But, the window lies.

The blanket on me says
It's a wall of bricks,

Not a glimpse of the outside.