Wednesday, February 01, 2012

It had been a good day; perhaps one of the best.
A day that comes rarely in lifetimes; Or not at all.
Perhaps the call of the six magpies began it all
Sat high in the tree calling for gold and answered;
By the rising sun cascading heat on earth, triggering;
Rising scents of pine and moss from the dewy dawn
From a forest that ran down from tall hill to the sea