Mornings To Me
Mornings to me
are not an exiting crescent moon
glowing gold in the west,
preparing to retire
below a distant tree line silhouette
Scattered footprints
in the glistening dew
on a lush lawn
still dreaming of the day before
Cantaloupe skies tickling
a sleepy horizon,
restless in vivid ribbons
on a wide eyed sapphire canvas
Yawning morning glories
climbing a silent fencepost,
standing guard in the shadows
of a stately oak
Butterflies floating
on dawn’s cool breeze
quietly touching each blossom
in mosaic laced flight patterns
The enchanting coo
of a stirring mourning dove
spreading its wings amidst
woven branched tapestries
Mornings to me
are always you,
surrendered in first blush beauty,
a breath of every sunrise’s promise,
awakening all that my heart desires
Good morning Soupers
I posted this earlier in the week but took it down. Here goes round 2. : )
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2018
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