Snow-sequins...a sonnet

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 ...yes, she told me she looks for those sequin scarves every night as she passes by:)

She tells me how a sea of sequins spills

From every windowsill; gold pools on snow

To charm the passer-by where winter chills

The dying day; and windows warm the snow

Home-hungry eyes at dusk are searching for

Gold welcome mats when they have miles to go

To their own home-sweet-home and wide-flung door

Spilling in sequin-scarves upon the snow

She tells me when dusk is an envelope

Wherein is tucked day’s final remnant glow

Then every window is a gleam of hope

Pinned to the dark like sequins on the snow

She tells me how snow-sequins wink and say

‘Ah, home is not so very far away’

© Janet Martin