Here in the middle of every day,
A peace between the frying bacon strips,
And eggs that are cooked the sunny way,
The brief thought into the heart gently slips,
While sprit dreams surge through fingertips.
The power of light needs no standing stone,
Nor gathering of crowds to call it true,
The candle flame burning brightly alone,
While sparrows frolic in the morning dew,
Before the golden skies return to blue.
And near the roses sings a speckled thrush,
Rejoicing in the early morning sun
The perfect song to break the dawn rise hush,
A surprise twitch that’s simply chanced upon
Brief moments as nature can’t be outdone
Form: English Quintains