Enchanted Morning

Listening to the enthusiasm of friends' descriptions of a poetry workshop in Menifee, I decided to venture in.  I love learning new things, stretching those little cells in my brain, and pushing myself beyond my comfort zone.  The first draft of this poem was seven lines long.  Draft two was about 30 or 35, and the workshop leader said, "You're used to writing prose, aren't you?"  So with three workshops under my belt, with suggestions from the group and several more revisions, here is the result:

Enchanted Morn

On this clear, post-rain winter morning

            Mother Nature awakens her children.

Mountains cloaked in fine white netting stand tall

            Greeting her majestically while

            Sweeping away gray cobwebs of dreams.

Mother’s sun arises,

            Bathing her earth in loving warmth

            Caressing her dry hills with golden affection and

            Kissing her sky in radiant roses and ginger blues.

Birds joyfully sing “Good morning”

            Dancing on fragile wind-blown branches.

            Emerging buds eagerly raise their heads like hungry chicks.

Grasses, still in evening garments of sparkling dew,

            Weep with gladness at the opening dawn.