A
mirror of water - that pool upon which I came
So early one morning
The sun had just risen, its autumn ripeness
of yellow and orange
Reflecting its warmth in that mirror of cold
So still - not a tremor
As if this spring of life for the summer had
died in her sleep
With the leaves that were falling .... they
came
Autumnal snowflakes
For the rainbow had melted and was showering
colour
And the breeze brought them here and showed
each its beauty in reflections of water
The mist was a mantle, a cloak which she wore
as the cold winds approached her, beckoning
winter
Yet the end had not come, for she only was sleeping
and dreaming of springtime
So early one morning.
* *
*
One Morning...
© Rowan 2006