The ear is alert and waits for a goodly rumbling.
A voice to usher in this day. With the morning;
aromas from the autumn breezes blow. The sun is awake.
The life that slept the dark and piney night has begun
again to venture. What shall my new dawn bring to me?
A love? A life? A task? The sun to set?
Not a single one, but all at my command. By it's passage
it has granted I be filled. Filled with the highest
hopes and dreams and loves and losses.
The Poetaster Jun/2008
Thomas Adams's Other Poems
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(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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