• The Still Of The Morning


    In the mill the spider is threading
    As the horses are waking
    The sun beams a light
    That barely awakens
    The mice on the floor.
    The miller lies in his cotton bed
    Dreaming of memories
    When he was just a kid.
    The tide comes in to land from the seas
    Whispering a warming “hello”
    Then runs out with a shimmer
    Faint and green.
    The cat walks on feet so white
    Watching the miller as he starts to wake up
    And the miller looks out his window
    Smiling, for the storms have stopped
    And it is now
    The still of the morning.