Poetry

In the early day there is some beauty
while the breeze in grass and bracken plays,
up high a lark is soaring wild and free.
In the early day

there is something joyful and something gay
with a kind of grace in everything I see
while over the hill a rider gallops away

and it’s as if something is calling me
to awaken you, to kiss you if I may,
together to find some serenity
in the early day.