A Poet's Dawn
I love the smell of the lake at dawn,
It's so peaceful here, just to sit and listen
No sounds but the waves slapping,
against the shore.
Birds fly by undisturbed catching
the mornings breeze.
I've watched many sunrise here,
With mother nature as mine only campaign.
That’s just fine with me, it adds to the
Personal experience it's a calming time
Just to be shared by her and I.
She the grand lady painting the horizon.
I the writer with words devotion,
Pen and paper ready at hand.
I'll sit on a blanket, leaning against
An old sun bleached log.
Satisfying true hunger desire with
Enlightenment’s simplicity.
She being my eternal muse,
The earthen mother of inspiration.
Behold a masterpiece created by
This divine maiden.
Thus restless I walk along the shore,
Trying to ponder freedoms liberation
And how to express it.
The blank page mocks me with emptiness's.
Uncertainty.
It's a humbling experience to watch an
Artist at work.
How do I capture what lies before me,
A mortal with only simple tools to
Relate such beauty
Inks imaginations links humanities spirit,
In this venue my name is solos,
And I'm truly at home here,
Lost amongst emotions glory.
A poet on destiny's shore, to wonder
Ever more in thoughts uplifting spiritual
Connection.
Excepting myself for whom I really am,
A castaway laying thin upon the wind.
Eating my lunch alone.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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