Matins Poem by Pete Crowther
Matins
I am a poor sleeper and rise early
But no need to sympathize,
There are compensations:
Most mornings I see the dawn
How the sky lightens, colours
Sometimes in delicate pastels
Sometimes deep flaming reds
Like war banners across the sky.
Then the sun, huge, imperial,
Mighty heaves himself up
To survey his inheritance.
What do I do to acknowledge
This giver of all life, warmth, light?
I fling my arms wide open and mouth
“Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! ”
This poem gives a glorious feeling of how good it is to be alive. It is a feel good poem and I enjoyed it very much. Gyps
You must make quite a sight at your window, Peter. :) This is a nice poem and I am learning that early morning is the nicest time of day. Your description of the sun rising huge and imperial is magnificent. Thanks for this one. Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 10:37:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Dawn is the most beautiful time of day; your words did it justice.