Paint Me A Sunrise
 
Soft breeze from open window
Gently brushes past my cheek,
And blows away the cobwebs
Of what once was dreamless sleep.
 
So now I hear all of the sounds
Of dark before the dawn,
A last crescendo, just before,
Suns’ rays creep cross the lawn.
 
The challenge of a rooster’s crow
Flung out in strutting dare,
A  mocking bird bursts forth in song
From lofty perch somewhere.
 
With robe thrown on and coffee cup,
I step outside my door,
Awaiting what will soon appear
And cause my heart to soar.
 
Another day breaks in the east
Such beauty a surprise,
For God has chosen once again,
To paint me a sunrise.
 
©  2003  Loree (Mason) O’Neil

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