The sun rising like a ball of yellow fire,
Over mountains of green and black.
To bring life to a blue sky,
With puffs of white clouds floating.
Leaves of green and yellow gently blowing,
Like a painter's brush on a blue canvas.
Water gently trickling over rocks,
Rocks smooth and rocks sharp.
Air warming slightly from its chilled night,
The dew disappearing from the fresh scented ground,
And a new day has dawned.

Lloyd McLean (1990)
 

This poem is a part of the Horses and Things collection