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One Morning....
by Rowan

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.

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One Morning... © Rowan 2006


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