Dawn On Aviemore Poem by poppy miller

My dreams have flown, good night sweet dreams, sleep well.
Whilst o'er the glen the burn gurgles low
And softly peeps the dawn light o'er the fell,
As heaven's veil of red begins to glow.
The silver birch tree smiles her sleepy smile,
Her sleeky arms stretched free, gently flowing,
She shakes her emerald earrings, friendly style,
Whilst sun-lit dew sets the earth a-glowing.
The gorse and heather in all their splendour
Flaunt their gaiety with such blooming pride;
And white chickweed, another contender:
Heart-bursting colour upon the braeside.
And the lark on the sill trilled ‘good morning
Aviemore, as gladness woke the dawning.