Written by Pat Fitzgerald
In morning’s mellow mist I moved,
Where woods were wordless, silence proved.
And The sun slipped softly past the pines,
While wandering winds drew wistful lines.
Through golden glades I glimpsed with glee,
A fox and rabbit roaming free.
They paused to praise the pulsing song
That stirred the stillness all along.
By bramble-banks a badger bold,
With careful claws through clover strolled.
A herd of hinds on heather high,
Like whispered wraiths went drifting by.
The hares in hazel hollows hid,
Then leapt with lightness, none forbid.
And blackbirds broke the boughs with cheer,
Their notes like nectar graced the ear.
A hush of heaven held the air,
As golden grace grew everywhere.
Some gentle force, though far, felt near,
Like light that lingers, calm and clear.
Though softened sounds may slip me by,
I feel the forest’s faithful cry.
In silence, too, the spirit sings—
Both hush and hymn bear golden wings.
Text © Pat Fitzgerald
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Such a beautiful poem!
Thank You for such kind words, Such mornings are a Joy to behold
I’ve experienced mornings like that one, I think that you captured the moment perfectly.
Very nice. You painted a tranquil, soothing, sacred scene for us.