Spring Morning

A symphony beyond my window plays
And gently draws my drowsy eye to gaze
Upon a patch of leafy limbs and sky
And then some cheerful finches by and by.

Creation lifts its daily hymn of praise
To greet the sun’s first slanting, burnished rays,
Which dart and bend through branch and leaf and pane
And creep until my coverlet they gain.

The dust motes revel at the reveille
Mid soft beams playing on the wall for me,
Where clownish shadow figures tell the time
And bid me to arise by pantomime.

by Matthew Hanna

Copyright © 2012 by the author


May be copied for church or personal use. All other rights reserved.

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