A perfect morning starts slowly
And breathes deeply
Pale light splashes across the night sky
Dampening the stars
Casting city and countryside in a soft silver,
The precursor to dawn’s glowing sunrise.
The birds are already awake,
Their song carried on the cool air
Through open windows,
Bringing the outside in,
Turning the house out.
I roll over, smile at the dawn,
Then sleep again.
Lazy and pyjama-clad,
I make my way through the house,
Stopping to pat my son on the head
On my way down for coffee;
Breakfast is late
But we have all the time in the world.
The day unfurls slowly,
Stretching out long and languid;
The sun arcs high across a clear-blue sky,
It finds us in the grass
At the end of the day.
It is golden then
And so are we.
The evening lingers
Long after the sun has set.
The light has softened and paled again –
The air is still cool,
The birds still sing.
There was no Midsummer’s Night magic,
There were no fairies,
No grand celebrations
In our today.
The day was longer,
The air was sweeter
And there was a natural magic in it
I could feel it.