A frozen hill side of trees sparkled in the frost. Day light is just beginning.
Shapes a way to catch the day
Each branch is quietly there
A waiting, frozen fountain
Ready to spray the sun away
Into the rise of morning air
The sunlight waits in expectation
To be filled with the first song
Of the frosted bird
In echoing celebration
Of the joy to fly among
The morning word
Sparkle is the winter leaf
The crystals flower the dawn
With colour of the sky
Bringing warm relief
Another day is born
To the morning songbird cry
Poetry by Adrian Wood
Read 641 times
Written on 2012-06-26 at 23:53
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Quietly Singing
Each tree on the woodland mountainShapes a way to catch the day
Each branch is quietly there
A waiting, frozen fountain
Ready to spray the sun away
Into the rise of morning air
The sunlight waits in expectation
To be filled with the first song
Of the frosted bird
In echoing celebration
Of the joy to fly among
The morning word
Sparkle is the winter leaf
The crystals flower the dawn
With colour of the sky
Bringing warm relief
Another day is born
To the morning songbird cry
Poetry by Adrian Wood
Read 641 times
Written on 2012-06-26 at 23:53
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
