Poem: Morning Doe in Spring

In hush of dawn where wildflowers lean,
A slender shape slips through the green,
Soft hooves press earth with silent grace,
As sunlight spills on her gentle face.

Mist still clings to meadow’s breath,
Where night’s hush yields to morning’s death,
She moves like thought, both shy and clear,
With watchful eye and upright ear.

Blossoms nod in dew-struck cheer,
The robin sings, the sky draws near—
And in that hush, so still, so wide,
The doe and day awake, allied.

A fleeting ghost of branch and bloom,
She vanishes beyond the gloom,
Yet leaves behind, in golden light,
The memory of her silent flight.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and light,

Brenda Marie