Opal shadows follow dawn
by David Taylor
across a light and fallow morn.
Curtains drift on blossom scented air
as light seeps through a stifled stare.
Where did I go as sleep beguiled
what did I keep and seek to hide.
Thoughts persist in new born light
still clinging from the forlorn night.
Waking senses knock on doors
of a mind that looks for more.
Clarity all pervasive found
behind all present invasive sound.
Golden sunlight bursts through clouds
penetrates through darkest shrouds.
Mind a lake of waters still
where I find the answers that fulfil.
Morning has a special charm
as does dusk enfold like lovers arms.
And in between I dream
all that I have ever seen.