Sunrise over misty moor,
All thy splendor I do adore;
To thy glory all awake
Flowers bloom at heaven's quake
And behold the magnificence

Who taught dance to the clouds
That overhang the mountains with their shrouds?
Flawless was the hand that bore
the paintbrush that was set before
the mural of the dawn

With new strokes each day is painted
where pure palette is never tainted.
The sky fills with tangible light
Purple scarlet golden bright
Luminous with wonder

Silky clouds sift in the sky
Through them, behind them, does lightness lie
Hazy hues of blissful colors
Fall to earth in graceful showers
Shimmering off the morning dew.

© Jennifer Hill 1998