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Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1744644
A quatrain poem with aabb form.
Morning

Fresh morning comes while north winds blow
A Hearth's remains – its embers glow.
A dense fog leaves an azure sky
And silence breaks with blue jays cry.

Pulled back curtains invite the light
And day begins from restful night.
With furrowed brow rapt thoughts no end
As pages turn and words are penned.

© Copyright 2011 patspenmark (patspenmark at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1744644