GloMag GloMagDecember2018 - Page 208

THROUGH THE WINDOW City New, faces fresh, Abode, with bed and few chairs! Populace bestirs, bustling in haste, Scurrying away, no time to waste! Through the window I heard her sing, Melody filled my empty room! Curious wondering eyes, Glimpsed the alabaster white hand! Dark hair, contrasting skin, must be cooking for her kin! 208