Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Andrew Tranter


The morning air crisp, pure and clean
The world is on the edge of awake
In the distance, an owl says goodnight
And a mist blankets a quiet stream

Bird song already an hour old as the sun starts to rise
Sheep feed in the meadows of distant hills
Tranquillity and serenity in perfect balance and harmony
And I marvel at creation in its infinity

Tree branches rustle, then a crack drawing watchful eyes
A fox plays musical statues as the sounds increase
Whispered words, those only distant ears can hear and Bang…
Then three more “Fire for effect” and hell now visits this place

Panic, excitement, noise bursting my ears
Glorious confusion rules supreme
Sweet scented earth rains from the skies
And I marvel at the power, of whispered words…


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