Morning Sun

Posted on April 15, 2018 by

Hazy beams reflect on glass,
Silver light tiptoes gently,
Casting shadows reaching out
Touching sand, silently.
Lingering fingers meet as one
Folding on waves, caressing,
We watch and realise it is
We who are trespassing,
There is no place for footsteps
That echo in the misty gloom,
Morning comes, and tranquillity
Will all be gone too soon.

Photo: morning in March 2018

About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! We have an elderly dog called Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
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