Autumn Morning
At Fairymount Farm
Awake
to the sound of water
creak from the attic floor.
Voices croak
with cloud-filled slumber,
curtains slide
to rolling fields.
A sage green barn
amid billowing oak,
the rose cottage
shines in morning dew.
Scarlet windows
like Autumn berries,
the haw, the spindle
in fairy hedgerows.
Virginia creeper
hugs my window,
claret leaves quiver
the crisp September air.
Breakfast bowls
rattle clean from the dishwasher
as morning stirs
on Fairymount farm.
Love this, Maire. :) Felt like I was there, besides wanting to go there now. Really homely feel. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Susan, wish you were with us there :) XX
ReplyDeleteVery good,I like the atmosphere and enjoy reading, thank you for having a glance at my work glade you enjoy it too.
ReplyDeleteGives a beautiful warm feeling.
ReplyDeleteLike it very much
Your -creak from the attic floor- and all; a very sensual poem! _m
ReplyDelete