Dawn
A water color painting,
Above the placid lake-
Red orange and vivid yellows,
The brush left in its wake.
The wind stirred oh so gently,
Across the golden grain,
‘Til in practiced unison,
It awoke the sleeping plain.
The early morning dew,
Yielded to the climbing sun
And the darkness bid adieu
To the new day, now begun
The coyote howl, a memory,
Now the meadow lark would sing;
And the promise of the day,
Like the hawk above, took wing
The rabbit scurried for its den,
The lizards darted past
The early morning chill yielded
To sol’s rays, at last
And I- I sat and pondered,
The dawning, oh so grand
But could not find the words,
My pen lay idle in my hand.
The masterpiece before me,
Orchestrated perfectly
Left me feeling impotent,
All my words a mystery
For all of my semantics,
Were inadequate to speak
The hand of God I witnessed,
and His work I can't critique
By Sandy lee
© 2012 Sandy lee
(All rights reserved)
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