The heavy brush of morning mist
Rolls across my skin
As pink and orange clouds’ fingertips
Stretch to the day begin
The birds shout out their joyful cheer
The morning now to greet
And sun-touched roses open wide
Their fragrance warm and sweet
Oh to catch the mist that holds
The scents, the hues, the song
And keep it in a bottle
To sip the winter long
