Poetry
The Poetry and Thoughts of Jane Carol
MORNING
Misty morning, cold awakening,
Damp, thick fog, shadows breaking.
Trees like giants, tall and threatening,
Stoop to capture nature's happening.
Webs are dripping, mistily laden,
Spiders hiding till webs are shaken.
In the country nothing's moving,
Swirling mist, bodies shrouding.
Nothing breaks the eerie silence,
Land and sky merge in grey coalescence.
Then the veil begins to lift
And now, the thick and swirling mist
Gives way to sunlight, very pale,
It makes the sun itself seem frail.
The drops of dew upon the web
Like crystals shine, as rays are shed at last through endless mist,
And morning breaks in beauty kissed.
The sun seems shy but starts to smile
And all around it will beguile,
Until the mist is cleared away
And once again buds a new spring day.