The Heart of Morning
Every time
I step outside,
to hear
the cicadas,
the last
of the blackbirds
before the evening’s
dusk
and sleep,
I look west
beyond the skies,
the last
of twilight
the dreams
of stars
and life
to keep,
for dawn will come
to rise again,
the night to pass
the day to be
born in wonder
and blossom
when
the beauty of you,
the heart of morning,
to live and wake,
again to see.
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
