Divine Poem by Daniel Miltz

We fine like wine, find life merely sublime
We ponder bewilderment wintertime
Through shrouds of fog and perpetual rain
These are precious New England's wintry chime

In the divine season's spirit, it's still
Wondrous, we awakening with a thrill
So a sure, so a pure, with our power
Life continues in this New England chill

Divine trestle to tree, brook to flower
Quiet solitude hour, onward we scour
How our purpose, magically unfolds
All things quiet, full vigor, sweet chatter

Nestled in divine peaceful wood thresholds
We could write a lovely book that beholds
Allegorical night fell upon us
Sleep for now, ok-as-ever, blindfolds

© daniel miltz