What is it about early dawnThat stirs the soul?The subdued soundThrough blankets of greyEbbs time away from sleepAs a shadow of a batLike a black glovecrosses the window paneI see it oncelike a breath escapedI wait but all in vain As soft lightPermeatesPeeling back the layersOf nightin this thin placeGone
Tag Archives: morning
Morning
Glimmer of lightA haze of drizzle on the windA gardener’s morning.
Through the Window
Transient the grainy grey of Morning Slips unnoticed into view Shrillness carried on the ribbon of birdsongCuts through the grey bluish hue.Dense the mist in blanket formA shrouded cover to cloak the sodA distant measure all but hiddenEtched fingers of branches held aloft.
Pastoral
At the stirring of the birds in morning As the world, its breath is held When those murmurings are forming And the monochrome is framed in gold.The cows still sleep- their forms striated Across the fields the colours merge Before these words are scribed,the sky is rendered Draws a curtain up to clarify the view.
Haiku – on air
dotted quaverscarried on aira wake up call
Ruth Partridge 