Morning Porridge

Dreamily, the dale is filling 

with moonlit water off the ridge 

melting cold stone to silt


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.





  • Theta the scholar

    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.

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