While at my window seat, I watch spring's Dawn
come easing into day with amber rays.
She lays a gilded glaze upon my lawn
and with her advent, scatters gloomy haze.
Like butter on my morning toast, her light
is smoothly spread enticingly across
my portion of the universe, for Night
has yielded to the magic of her gloss.
I quickly dress. Behind my house I run
to see her at her zenith. Dawn now spills
a plenitude of honey from the sun
onto a field of brilliant daffodils.
How kind Dawn is, how lovely to behold
in seasons when she touches Earth with gold!
By Andrea Dietrich
First Place in Brian Strand's Contest:
Up To Thee Max 14 Lines
Now entered in PD's Contest for #1 poetry