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Rated: · Poetry · Experience · #1569204
A poem I wrote one morning, having been affected by the snow and sun combined.
Morning Glory,



Healthy breath,

White steam,

Feet move rhythmically,

Thoughts sometimes blank,

Sometimes complex

Or on the day ahead of me.



Then I see it!

It astonishes my mental confines,

Reaching this star and higher,

This startling sphere of fire!





Its aggressive beauty,

Not prettily shining but passionately red,

Kissing the virginal crust of snow,

Warming the hearts of its dependents.



Its radicalism becomes diluted

As the day grows older

Until it rests,

Ready to perform again tomorrow.
© Copyright 2009 Brindle (baglady at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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