Thursday, January 22, 2015


By Beatrice M. Hanson

Have you ever risen early
On a still lush summer day
To gaze upon the outside world
Draped in pearly-grey?
Have you sought to view the garden
Hidden under threads of web-lace,
Where all plant life lay sleeping
Waiting for the suns embrace?
There’s an element of mystery
As in the world of fairy-land,
Where every blade is fragile,
Dew-diamonds on every hand.
The scent of the modest petunia
Penetrates the thick moist air,
While a peaceful hand hovers over all,
Guarding the sleeping in its care.
Slip back to bed I beg you,
Before the day grows long,
To keep this moment forever,
A thing of mystic charm.