Breakfast

April 4, 2013 at 9:22 am (literature, philosophy, Poems, poetry, Shropshire, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , )

Walk out with me in morning feet,
along the edge of spring,
still steeped in snow, our woollen coats
pulled hard against the wind.
There, gowned and slippered, see she stands,
Nature is summoning the land,
It’s time to shine
It’s time to shine
She holds the sunlight in her hand.

Walk out with me in morning feet,
and catch the swooshing loud,
of Nature smoothing cotton sheets
and plumping  pillow clouds.
She lifts the verdant grass to grow
and lusty, showered in the dew,
It’s time to shine
It’s time to shine
will dress our  hillside all anew.

Walk out with me in morning feet,
to greet the waking day,
when preparations are complete
and humans on their way.
Our breakfast on the quilted hill
a secret unrevealed until
It’s time to shine
It’s time to shine
She sweeps our breadcrumbs from her sill.

 

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