This Is the Morning
Morning air, brisk and clean,
Water reflecting sunrise sheen.
Fish break the the quiet glass,
Frogs jump as I pass.
Birds twitter in the trees,
Dragonflies buzz as they please.
Boots soaked with dewey damp,
Leave behind their muddy stamp.
Through grassy field, waist length,
Fresh scent lending strength.
Between trees centuries old,
Mottled bark still rough and cold.
From the forest into the glade,
To my stump, still in shade.
Sit and watch nature performing,
Yet another spectacular morning.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 2:13 AM UTC
This Is the Morning
Morning air, brisk and clean,
Water reflecting sunrise sheen.
Fish break the the quiet glass,
Frogs jump as I pass.
Birds twitter in the trees,
Dragonflies buzz as they please.
Boots soaked with dewey damp,
Leave behind their muddy stamp.
Through grassy field, waist length,
Fresh scent lending strength.
Between trees centuries old,
Mottled bark still rough and cold.
From the forest into the glade,
To my stump, still in shade.
Sit and watch nature performing,
Yet another spectacular morning.
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