Morning
Morning in all it's glory,
seeping through my windowpane
Dawn's break of the day,
washed clean and fresh, again
Birds are waking slowly,
singing to the dawn
Dew has left a thousand
tiny prisms dancing
across the lawn
I can smell the coffee
brewing in the pot
Another day of glorious
wonder will not be forgot
Rising from my bed,
to drink a cup of brew
I walk my little stone path
as my feet are bathed in dew
Lynn West
(c) 2009
No comments:
Post a Comment