Dreamily, the dale is filling
with moonlit water off the ridge
melting cold stone to silt
and
sounds the kettle for the porridge;
The vale's village is waking up,
muttering their good mornings
and fumbling with their shutters shut
to greet the sun in opening.
Orange light dilutes the clouds, a dress
is donned by vermeil dawn
which paints daybreak a pretty mess
and the dale in wonder, yawns yet less
Wakefully, the dale is filling-
with sunlit water off the ridge
pouring down to kettle spouts
into the morning porridge.
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Comments1
Very nice poem, very detailed and felt calming. I think the morning is the best time of day but I've been growing fond of the night recently. Keep up the good writing.
-Theta
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