It is morning, quiet morning.
The honey-colored morn tiptoes silently,
through the lifting opaque sheers;
a mellow dew upon its wings,
sparkling shifting, sweet summer fairy dust.
I arise to inhale the sunrise,
stars, nearing sleep in the purple horizon leaving,
shimmer, ever so pale now in the saffron mist,
that warms the beckoning footpath below.
It is morning, quiet morning
as waves far off beneath a pale rose horizon,
gently lick the smooth white sand shore.
The green earth tilts through a sphere of clear air,
and bathes in the vastness of space and time.
Emerald vine leaves tickle my window pane.
Dew-drops sing to the garden stones.
The robin concurs with the delicate chinaberry tree;
ever repeating three clear tones to the heavens,
to my heart.
It is morning, quiet morning
I pause in the light to love you again.
Upright and firm you stand on a star undaunted,
immense and free as a cloud.
I will dedicate this moment before my soul,
to him alone, for this is his song.
It is morning, quiet morning,
there are horses neighing within far-off memories.
Tossing their long manes, silently calling us to confession.
We two departing, upon the breath of spirits,
....wherefore to… I care not.
artisandelimage
wow… lucky him…
my best, francis.
Shannon Donovan replied
Thank you so much Francis! Nice to see you!
Moniquitacute
Oh wow Shannon!!! Instant fav!!!!!!! What a great writer you are… LOVE the way you described those quiet moments early in the morning!!! Romance at its best! WOW!
Shannon Donovan replied
Awwww, you are too kind my dear! Thank you so much for the comment and the fave hun!xx
kjgordon
such a way with words….......lovely
Shannon Donovan replied
Thank you so much dear KJ!
faceart
You are fantastic, Shannon!!!
Shannon Donovan replied
Thank you Klaus!!! You are so wonderful to me! Thank you for the fave and your support dear heart!