The sunlight of a golden morn,
Slips fleetingly over tree tops;
and dips to kiss the unfathomable depths of the lake.
The gentle lapping on the shaily shore,
birds singing in the trees.
The cliff faces dense with trunks and canopy.
I want to catch this moment,
and keep it forever.
But would this crystal image in a bottle,
ever be as beautiful as the clarity and purity of this;
My morning.
You have painted such a beautiful picture for your audience. I can practically see your lovely morning - everything thriving with the beginning of a new day. Very nice poem, A-B Sapientia. Do keep writing. Love and Sunshine, -L.C.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
id like a wooden lodge next to this image, where i can recluse to my hearts extent, and journey five miles too get some milkshakes and ink for the type writer, x