For these times…
Pleasant Hill, Misty Morning, Margaret Mair, original art, sold.
Some early mornings
The clouds drift down
From their sky-home
To wreath the hills below
In shimmering yellow
And lend the rising sun
A veil to hide behind.
Those days
It is good to wake
And start life again
In the mists of morning
When the light is gentle
And the view is soft,
The world grown small;
When the hills
Disappear in the distance
And the trees drink
Misty moisture through
Dew spotted leaves
That shed small drops
On us as we pass
And the golden air
Kisses our skin
With light-suffused kindness
And our spirits bathe
In the essential pleasure
Of morning mists.
Written by Margaret Mair
Painting, original art by Margaret Mair
MairImages.ca Blog 
I love this Margaret, it has such a lovely gentle but exhilarating feeling to it.
I hoped it would feel kinder than some of the poetry I find myself writing now; I’m glad you found it gentle.
Beautiful poem and painting! ❤
Thank you!