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Sunday Mornings

There is a silence heard only on Sunday Morn
As raindrops tease suns shine
At the first call of Dawn

As the favoured
Woodpigeon
Parades in sunday best
A reverends collar above a
Blushing pink chest

He calls with such eloquence through wood
And ticking time

As coo's dance with rainclouds
As eye's dance with sleep
As children swoon with sugar candy
As couples eye's
Dance with each....

Other

Worldly steeples
Arch above life's head
As widows and insomniacs dream
Of the one's
They loved best

Theres such solitude and compassion
Pon a family
Sunday Morn
Within the silence and
Damp steeples

In the first call of dawn......

poem by Karen Sinclair
Added by Poetry Lover
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