Druid Morning Magic Poem by JAMES T. ADAIR

At the break of the morning light
at the razors edge between dark and light
he holds her closely and shield her from the cold
And quietly this way his affection is told
Gently, his hand upon her breast
His warmth radiates through her chest
Touching her tender connected heart
Secure together they shan't part
Her warmth and beauty is his fortress
And she his morning mistress
As they wait upon the sun
He feels much like a chosen one
As the only sound is ember cracklng in the fire
as distant screaching gulls dart and fly higher
a wizard in the distance does look upon and conspire
The son, inside her will be a leader and shall inspire
She turns to look into his eye of blue
within the backdropp of the cliffs and morning mist
and he plants a loving kiss upon her ruby lips