Slowly daylight breaks over a sleepy English moorland
Casting long shadows as sunrise slowly ripens
Throwing away the nights ghostly darkness and chill.
Stunted ferns wake up and moorland flowers start to open
And tired moorland heathers drink the early dew.
God's bright new canvas unfurls a vacant landscape
As morning's weary eyes gradually begin to open.
Nature slowly stirring from its night time slumber.
Skylarks start to sing, leaping ever higher in the air;
Their shrill chirping is natures own alarm clock.
Mountain hares standing bolt upright, searching nerviously,
Noses twitching, sensing with alert dark wide eyes,
Then hiding between boulders scattered all around
As they watch the antics of the skylarks with an amusing smile.
Timid field mice begin scurrying across open ground escaping
Hungry red kites circling above, waiting to pounce.
As hill sheep, now roaming closer, tiptoe over small rocks,
With young lambs stumbling behind, hungry and bleating
As shepherds amble along behind, closely watching their flock
On an English moorland in summer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Casting long shadows as sunrise slowly ripens to pain the God's canvas with love and attitudes. Very fantastic poem shared with reality and nicely drafted sharing.10