I hear chimes
that invite the morning in
and birds that sing of an approaching day
as they fly to catch the sun
moisture glistens on the weaving green
the air speaks of breathless delight
I touch this world another day
and escape the barren chill of night
From – Touching the World
ponart
Copyright 1976
Patrick M. O’Neil
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Reference: Collection 2, Poem ID= 88