Morning Come
Swirling, cinnamon peppered, Neapolitan skies,
beckon like candy to my famished searching eyes.
Western honey colored rays
burning through shades of grays,
can’t penetrate the stacks of Nimbus blacks
but quick crackling shards of blinding golden, silver slivers
pierce that formidable canopy as Sun’s pride withers.
The night and storm has won.
Morning, come.
Robert A. Dufresne was born in Vermont and raised on a dairy farm. After four years in the Navy and trying his hand at a couple of trades, he settled in as a self employed remodeling carpenter for 31 years. He and his wife moved to Florida in 1998, where he continued his career. He began writing poetry in 2009 .
This is an awesome, incredible piece of wondrous poetry. You have surely written a glorious write about the coming morning sky. I loved reading your delightful poem. Great work.
ReplyDeleteSo much to look forward to, between shade and shadow, of a coming day...
ReplyDeleteI love the dramatic entrance you painted for dawn. This is wonderful Robert! Blessings, Connie
ReplyDeletethis is just beautiful, my friend
ReplyDeletequite excellent
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