A Purple Dawn

A Purple Dawn

When a pinkish-purple dawn breaks o’er my land
dribbling down to kiss the heather laden braes
the misty wraiths swirl, clinging to the peat hags
the wind sighs, caresses and murmurs for days
Ruffling the heather stalks, it soughs past, it lags
An enamoured lover it whispers and croons
billowing through the beauteous folds and crags
it lingers, wanting to stop for many moons
Beautiful isn’t it, nature’s bounty at hand
like a palette of vibrant, purplish-mauve hues
strewn as if carelessly, by God on his muse

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