PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Warm in the waking

I welcome the day

Warmed by the greeting,

My dog wants to play



Walking cold in the dawning

On frost rimed clay

The gelid brook, still flowing,

Steams, limpid and lazy,



While veiled in the mists,

The last stars seen, hazily,

Then far to the East sparks the first fire of heaven

Shooting our shadows, so long, down the valley.



Urgent, excited, my dog cannot see,

Sharp senses, oblivious to heaven’s display,

We head home through the heath lands,

Hardened and hoary.

Then the warm kitchen, breakfast, the laughter of children,

And he’s quite unaware of this gift that he makes me,

Every waking morning and not just today.

This third day of November,

My birthday!