Dawn sky, watery blue streaked red and gold,
by the hand of God.
Mountain ranges like humpbacked somnolent dinosaurs
Left behind from a long forgotten age.
Leafless hawthorns standing naked in the wind,
branches raised in supplication to the morning sky,
await the sap of spring
The sun, gold clad, eastern ambassador.
Whose heat spreads like a soothing balm.
Breathing life and warmth into frost bitten fields.
Lake mist hovers in ghostly plumes, above Loch Conn,
Welcome cover for the hungry birds
Whose song is the orchestral soundtrack
to God's own watercolour dawn
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