Far Too Few a Morning

Far too few a morning has found me
    Laying a-bed in a glen
Listening to morning breaking
    Out with its pleasing din

Near stream that babbles and gurgles,
    Water flow dancing with chill
Ice sound slipping and sliding
    Cascading down yonder hill

Stars fade into grey morning
    Blackness thins ever away
Before the golden sunlight lifts
    O’er hill a single warm ray

While a jay comes a calling
    Chiding me for lying in
Instead of industriously making
    Some morsel of breakfast for him

And nighttime’s tussle of friendship
    Of fox and deer and bear
Trade ranks with the day’s fellows
     The chipmunk, the squirrel and hare

Each thus morning I wake up
    I wonder why so long
Has passed since I last lay there
    Spellbound by morning’s song.

© Copyright 2016, Marty Vandermolen