Bleary-eyed, zipping wide my cocoon, I peel myself into the morning
Uttering, muttering, I crawl out of the tent.
The soft sun of morning greets me and iluminates
The magical carpet of spider webs,
Everywhere clinging to the dew-drench grass.
Riot of butterflies bustle on the subtle breeze -
Floating, fleeting. Greedily I drink it in:
Lowing cattle framed by bower of sweet peas.
I thrill at nature's wallpaper
Enclosed by beech saplings, sturdy firs: our secret glen. Cars zoom past.
Steadily heralding a new dawn, the daily web is caste.
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