Dearest Dawn
When in fear of what is surely to be
I turn to you the sunrise enduring,
unfettered clouds are they the Godly key
their shadowy hands simply alluring?
Each day hope returns as does the season
each year rebirth the flower, bud and leaf,
giving one license to dare to reason
the passing of autumn’s robe without grief?
Alas I may be your humble servant
whilst mother nature is spared brevity,
an intellect you afford me fervent
but a price to pay in longevity.
Everyday, your circle perpetual
whilst mine, with emotion eventual.
1/5/2020
Strand pick J contest.
Copyright © Harry Horsman | Year Posted 2014
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