Ruth Walters

(London, U.K.)

Morning


I watch sunlight melt,
it darts between the trees
bringing dull leaves to life.
They shimmer and shine.

Sunshine washes fields and copses,
red poppies bob and sway,
daffodils billow this way and that
as daffodils will.

With my eyes half shut
beneath the golden glow
I can almost see fairies
dancing.

They’re weaving gossamer
as spiders watch, bemused.
Delicate spiders with
beautiful colours.

They prance, elegantly,
gently, sideways
through the
lush foliage

but it’s just a painting
and as sunlight
shines through
my bedroom window

I recline on an unmade bed,
too sleepy with the morning
to bother to get up
and face the day.

Submitted: Thursday, January 23, 2014
Edited: Thursday, January 23, 2014
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