In Winter's Morning Hush
Wakening, I sense it’s a day not ordinary.
To the large bay window in my front room I’m drawn.
Lovely flakes tumbling from the sky I see.
I crack the door and feel the chill and still of dawn,
and peace descends on me like the snow that blankets my lawn.
In that winter’s morning hush are beams of brilliant light.
They sparkle, dancing on tree boughs hanging low.
How beautiful are they, all feathered white!
Along the lane, before a strong wind starts to blow,
I’ll go and walk serenely on the newly fallen snow.
Written Dec. 2, 2011
For Francine Roberts' "English Quintain contest Poetry Contest"
For Brian Strand's ONE FROM YOUR LAST FIFTY POSTED ON PS
any form/theme max 14 lines Poetry Contest
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