A poem about the view of person, through their window as the morning is welcomed.
The dew drops mottle my window.
It’s a sort of grey and blue outside.
An odd freshness calms the yellowing garden.
The pebbles, by the coarse grass
are shiny from the night’s rain.
The pensiveness of the morning
is ready to set me off.
The morning starts taking shape.
Colour creeps past my robust wooden fence.
The sun breaks through the water droplets.
I watch the grey and blue
become yellow and white.
The dew drops slither down the smooth surface,
Setting a trail of innovation.
The morning has arrived
but
the dew drops haze my view
and I can’t see,
Outside my window.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
