Morning
Morning
Dawn, in pink, tiptoes slowly
across sullen sky, mood unknown,
blue hues hint at what’s to come.
Moon, drowsy from night vigil,
leaves her stars with au revoir.
Sun makes entrance with a yawn,
stretches slowly, surveys domain.
Nocturnals snug in cosy homes,
day creatures wait Sun’s action.
Yesterday Sky cried all day.
Dewy diamonds quench early thirst,
spun webs sparkling chandeliers,
birds feasting on berry breakfasts,
singing to sweeten Sun’s mood,
hoping to persuade a smile.
Gentle breeze brushes branches,
blooms unfurl to Sun’s caress,
clouds clump, ready to surrender.
Then, at last, Sun spreads his arms,
floods dawn sky with liquid gold.
Ruth Mawdsley
26/2/20
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