A Poem

                                             

                                               Morning

 She looks to the East,

 the sun's soft light caressing her face like warm, friendly fingers.

She opens her arms,

closes her eyes

and breathes deeply of the crisp morning air.

The wind stirs and blows the hair from her face.

She sits down on the soft carpet of grass, slightly wet form dew.

Everything is still.

Everything is quiet.

Everything is peaceful. 

                  ~Alley Caroline