Lullaby by Janet Jones Stebbins
Snow does not turn to rain along the coast,
and green fields are enough to feed the hungry.
The working stiff endures to face another day,
and blessings come among the bills and junk mail.
Worried poets find the word, lengthen the line,
and followed stars do not fade just at dawn.
The lion does not succumb in his cage,
and the kind ones do not die in their youth.
Lights are always burning in the window,
and snow does not turn to rain along the coast
Janet Jones Stebbins is a poet living in Southern Maine. She sometimes prefers cats to company, and a wink and a laugh to the work of mind wandering. Here poetry has been published in Reflections and The Portland Museum of Art (Portland Maine).