Poetry

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Softly, silently morning is waking,
Stretching her fingers across the sky;
Ever so gently caressing the ocean,
The valleys, the hills and the mountain tops high.

See in the east a lone bird is flying,
Winging her way to some far distant shore;
Only the breeze whispers a greeting
And then she has vanished to be seen no more.

A moment in time so fleeting yet perfect,
Instilled in my memory and precious to me;
So peaceful, so glorious, so wondrously fragile,
More priceless than diamonds and silver, yet free.

Patricia Todd.
16th January, 2009.

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