A Morning Walk…
The pink hues of the morning are a welcome release
Their fingers reaching into the midnight blue
The clouds that have muffled the sounds
As the hours creep across the clock
Are gradually losing their menace.
The shadows have danced a secret waltz
Entwined together in a formal masquerade
They have spent all night melted into darkness
For these short sunrise snapshots
They can rejoice until they are lost again.
The gentle hum of the world has already begun
And yet just the flutter of the birds waking
Decorate the delicious silence
Between my footsteps
A soft drumbeat.
My eyes have forgotten to look for the signs
In moments we’ve gone from darkness
Into the pale yellow light of discovery
A painter’s palette of prose
Just waiting to be found.
A whistle as a bird weaves through the morning
Its feathers caught in the first hints of sunrise
A watercolour wash is gradually fading
The deep blues of a sunshine day emerging
Its warmth tickling my skin as a walk.