The Morning Sun…


You know that feeling, when you’ve spent a cold night snuggled up on the hard ground listening to the wind blowing against the tent’s fabric beside you. And then you wake and slowly unzip the door at your feet, to be greeted by golden rays of sunshine streaming towards you, igniting all the beautiful greenery around. It brings about a certain calm, a great kindred feeling with everything that surrounds you; peace and tranquillity, and thanks for the safety which it provided throughout the night…

The morning sun

Slow and steady

Wins the race.

The morning sun

Has no time for haste,

No time for rushing,

No time for stress,

Only time

For slow progress.

Rising with it

One will see

Golden yawns,

A stretching breeze,

A vast encounter

Called the sky,

Petals unfolding,

Birds up high.

Like this poem? Then maybe you’ll enjoy my book, At Home in the Bushes, about a year I spent cycling, busking and wild-camping around the North of Britain. Click HERE to read more.


3 thoughts on “The Morning Sun…

  1. The sun may be slow and lazy to rise,
    and the moon may be eager to show surprise.
    But after all, the sun does hide,
    The stars and the moon do confide.

    But what is seen as morning glory
    I would say is a bit more gory,
    Since the sun hides the moon and the stars
    Like men do by putting men behind bars.

    We repeat what we see
    And dont see what we repeat
    And that clearly
    will be our defeat.

    Don’t know if i make sense, but i like your poem. It’s cute in my opinion.


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