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Our Morning Mistress

It's sunrise.

By Rose MayPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
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The burning boil of the morning horizon,

tinged orange with an ethereal glow.

Great strokes of gold slash across

an endless mirage of blue.



Tiny dots of mammals frolic through the skies,

The wind a shapeless master.

Pushing up, then down,

forwards, backwards.

Yet still the great orb rises.



Stringless and with an angelic grace

Our celestial mistress illuminates the majesty.

She watches over us, the faceless fire

seeing everything with her incandescent glare.



But you mustn’t look back,

no you must not,

not at the great crimson nucleus.

Lest your eyes burn with her.

nature poetry
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About the Creator

Rose May

Just wanted to share some words with you.

Please please leave feedback if you want to! I would really appreciate anything, thank you for reading :)

Reader insights

Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

Top insight

  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

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Comments (1)

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  • W. Joe O'Banion2 years ago

    "Stringless and with an angelic grace" is such a great line!

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