Winter sunrise beckons –
To the early fisherman, waiting
To the dog and the walker, whistling
To the cyclist, breathing hard
To the athletic couple, running
To the lover, returning
To the pelican, preparing
To the poet, watching.
Morning
All posts tagged Morning
The Kiss (Rodin)
The new moon slips its smiling face
Above the morning camisole of mist
And shines a gentle beam
Across my lovers breast.
An early breeze stirs fading shadows,
As night is chased further into the dawn
By the golden promise of an autumn sun,
And reveals the soft curve of lips –
“Stop staring at me” she smiles…
But I never will.
Poetry is my aeroplane 