The early morning breeze
And how the mist still hit the trees
And though the air may feel to freeze
To walk, to breath, it frees
all the jumble in my head
As I come straight out of bed
To be gotten by the Sun
And to feel for what I’ve done
Be it magic, be it bliss
For I treasure all of this
As the morning light breaks through
And at peace,
I am with you
April 13th, Fiona McGuire
I obviously wrote this on April 13th as that’s what it says on the top of the page that fell out of a journal! It’s from the last 5 years definitly, but which I’m not sure.
Check out the Life in the Weald website for more posts like this.