Morning Poem by Thomas Stearn

Morning comes,
Citrus turquoise and gold.
Song of the angels serenading the quiet calm
Of fluttering wings in silver light,
Tranquil bliss.

A subtle breeze brushes eloquently
Gathering leaves of bronze,
Shimmering Water trickling along a stream,
Sparkling like sapphires in her eyes,
Beautiful and pure.

Droplets on bluebells,
White flowers divine,
A sent of lavender and thyme.
A humming bee suckling in a meadow,
With grass as soft as beach cut pebbles.

The sun rises
In a palette of plush pink blossom,
Dandelions scattering in the wind.
A lake of floating water lily's
Elegantly sitting on the translucent surface.

Morning is here,
Peaceful and unassuming,
A stillness like no other.
May this day be a blessing
For all that is good on earth.