The morning is rising, the blackbird is singing,
From out of the shadows of branches and leaves,
His song rides the breeze and is breaking the silence,
As into the springtime his melody breathes.
New life through the stillness as skies are now glowing,
And colours awaken as night fades away,
The sunlight is peeping above the horizon,
And casting its warmth at the start of the day.
With blossoms so pretty like snowflakes are falling,
As daffodils shine in their glory like gold,
And waving before me they greet the new dawning,
An ocean of beauty, such treasure they hold.
The morning is rising, the blackbird is singing,
And filling the air with his sweet notes of love,
As echoes of joy now envelop the woodland,
And clouds slowly pass in the blue skies above.
ANDREW BLAKEMORE
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-morning-is-rising/
