A dark valley, some stars; the moon has set,
dawn is approaching, but it’s still cool yet.
The morning heat of summer has begun to fade,
the season turns to winter, as nature has bade.
The horizon lightens from grey to pink,
birdsong sounds clear; greeting dawn on the brink.
From mauve-pink to orange and orange to gold,
night finally begins to relinquish his hold.
Dew clings to grass and the tips of leaves,
condensation on windows below the eaves.
To the east, sunlight breaks over ridges high,
times between time; heaven ever seems nigh.
When you think there is, to come, nothing more,
the sun strikes dense mist, low on the valley floor.
It appears like a blanket God spreads on the earth,
such peace in its beauty; more than Diamonds its worth.
Written by Siona Effield