When the first summer rain stirs the peaceful veil
And the white fly casts shadows down tried and true
When the firelight sparks in the first dark of night
And the thunderous call reaches the mountains through
Within grandeur ends such glory
A quiet death for time as it stops
Crashing like passing waves ashore
Bursting into the creative mind
That is the caffeine rushing to a combustive heart
Trying to write with morning fog, mostly about morning fog, is like a descriptive eye chart. LOL. #wakeup
