Misty Morning Musing Poem by C Richard Miles

Is he made of no romance and no pity
As I gaze out through misty windowpanes
And see the silk-scarf fog cold-clothe our city?
“What are you staring at? ” he just complains.
“Get off to work, don't laze and do your duty.”
But I will choose to marvel at the scene,
A pastel-painted world, a thing of beauty,
A wonder-world of white, once grey and green.
Why must I rush for buses, have to hurry
When I can linger here and drink it in?
What is this need for worldliness and worry?
Is my appreciation such a sin?
So I reply, “For once, this haste must cease.
Just let me pause for simple pleasures, please! ”