These are the last of my older poems that I am going to share:
In these early moments
of the day before me spread,
as the life-giving sun burns its way
through the shrouds of night, silently rending them,
its brilliant warmth
speaks to my heart a poem of hope.
I awake with a singing soul,
And though the song be lost
in the blatant discord
of everyday strife,
these moments now are mine
to walk in my Father’s house.
is more cherished
Each year I greet the harbingers,
marvel at the blind courage
of Nature newly reborn,
delight in the incredibly sweet scent
of orange blossoms,
and each year
it is the more poignant
for having been known before.
straining at Winter’s lethargy,
the tide of Spring
is the strongest force in nature,
but deceptively gentle,
like a woman in love.
Azure paints the Autumn sky;
Crisp and cool, a sudden breeze
Whisks away bright, tattered garments
Outworn by the Summer day.
Like unclothed arms, each withered branch
Waves bony hands at Winter’s tease.
The torrid siren dressed in green,
Weary of sport, has gone her way