The Gull Poem by Ruth Calder Murphy
The Gull
The morning is clear,
riding in on the back of moonbeams
and surfing the crests of clouds.
Coffee in hand,
I stand,
nowhere to look but up
and there,
flying high,
flying free,
determinedly
through the pale dawn sky,
a single,
silent gull,
heading for faraway sea.
My smile catches on its wings,
a bright,
joy-filled bit of me,
soaring towards wider horizons
on a fresher breeze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 5:52:35 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Thank you Guy. I'll try to read some of yours as soon as I get organised with this!