Morning: early in the year

 

Day began: in coming to my mind, sweet honeycomb,

Warm barley, on the bed, in blanket sunshine

Enfolding over

With quiet dreams the morning always brings to hand

As like a child’s most fascinated curious toys

For showing off

 

No wintry cough

Today no nether depth of frost; all gone, absent

Into that dark backward and abyssm of time;

And now, alive, times propser

Their living sources muster;

Here’s air, and free expression, spacious, spanning everywhere

 

Betimes also there rises up a grateful prayer

Come calling, a glad visitor a-knocking on my door

Asking me how I am, and if perhaps we’ve met before

On such a golden prime as this; and all the more

Sufficient to those thanks I here performing as my theme

I shift to beauty’s Maker upwards as if yet I dream

Day’s beauteous salutations; that it should yet contravene

My woken state….?

 

………………………………..

 

I take the gate:

Breakfasted: wearing half a smile; as profligate

Rude healthy nature jostles loose sensations

Strows russet light refracting on polite carnations

And vibrant but not humid nor austere

Air’s lightly cool, enough, sufficient to declare

Joy’s everywhere

 

Windhover April days were never sweeter

Balancing cusps of christening and peter

Of old and new, to come and go away,

That mix and match of inklings of a day

Observed and suffered, encouraging a game

Dismissing servant-past, and greeting vain

Welcome regalias

 

Prim promenaders, handfuls yet to come,

Of waving flowers, and buds banging their drum

On windowpanes led by a conducting breeze

An orchestra of instruments of trees,

Raw shrubs, and sultry Proserpina roses,

Wearing sensory narcotics of the nose’s

Plain pallors wild, but utter sanguines tame,

Insist withal, whatever’s in a name

 

Thus lost in local neighbourhoods I find

By natural surprises, undefined

Those bearings, every day life took for granted

An earth, front door, good sleep, a seedling planted;

Evacuated; urchins gone on railway trains

An engine driving estrangement, almost legerdemain

Removing of oneself, distanced involuntary

Forgathered here onto an alien promontory

Where is discovered of a sudden, actually

Beneath my eyes and feet, this manufactory,

 

Of sempiternal fecund superflux

Arrived surrepetitiously in full redux

 

__________________

 

You can also find this poem at our steemit blog: https://steemit.com/poetry/@matthew.raymer/morning-early-in-the-year

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