Along the cliffs, <br />the Swifts, <br />dart and dive through early drifting mists. <br /> <br />The clover, pink, <br />lifts its globular heads to morning dew, <br />and a handful of intrepid cyclists. <br /> <br />A fog horn sounds, <br />across the water, <br />echoing above the birds shrill songs <br />making them scatter. <br /> <br />No matter. <br /> <br />They will return again, <br />and resume their bright and cheerful communal chatter. <br /> <br />A seagull rides the thermals, its habitude, <br />hovering. <br />He's shrewd, always searching for food, <br />and one feels that one could easily intrude <br />upon this awakening solitude. <br /> <br />Glancing out to sea, you observe <br />that the haze is clearing, <br />and as you gaze, <br />you raise your eyes skywards <br />and liaise with the firmament, <br />your mind meditating <br />in a contented praise.<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awakening-solitude/
