at times there are no
words to capture the beauty
of the rising sun
at times there are no
words to capture the beauty
of the rising sun
a morning sky so
beautiful, so radiant
in its own splendour
when birds are singing
to welcome the day who could
not be filled with hope
specious-looking sun
promising an early spring
the faintest pink blush
the honking of geese
sharp arrows flying southward
unseasonably
the elm’s signature
fine-cut branches sctratched against
a pale winter sky
still I must get up
shower, dress and clean my teeth
when working from home
wet tyres squishing past
the dim light of a dark day
the warmth of this bed
from above my head
the uhhm of meditation
the creaking of floors
such pretty colours
in the morning sky fading
already to grey
I dream so I write ..
“Wings are an illusive notion. Some may possess them, but they are not very visible, and as for me, there isn’t the least sign of a feather.” -Amy Carmichael
New Ideas, New Forms
Musings from an insignificant writer
14 hectares of thrills, spills and fun!
A Journal of Poetic Observations
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Ellen Grace Olinger