A Winter's Morn'

Remnant of the lover’s swoon Hanging high in the morning sky Traces of last night's full moon Gossamer glimpse seen by few Sky of baby blue Dotted with white billowing clouds Steam rising from the river near bye No hustle, no bustle, no crowds Bare trees whispering for the spring Cold breezes shivering to the bone In the distant I can hear her sing A beautiful sound and then off she has flown Spreading her tiny wings Free and gliding on winter’s chill Hoping for the warmth that flowers bloom brings Nature’s beauty written with a golden quill