A Winter Dawn

Above the marge of night a star still shines,
And on the frosty hills the sombre pines
Harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low
Over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow.

Through the pale arch of orient the morn
Comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born,
A sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray
Banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day!

by Lucy Maud Montgomery

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Comments (3)

It's a sheer joy to read such a lively poem which transforms the scene of a winter day into a pulsating landscape. Thanks.
Look at the Darkness, giving birth to the Sun. - Khalil Gibran
This is a well written poem Lucy