Warmth of the coffee mug clutched tightly in my hands
Contrasts sharply with the chill of the early morning.
Three deer meander through our yard, munching, carefree.
They look my way and go on about their business.
My love joins me.
Together we look across this beloved part of our world
And hear the wonderful sound of rushing water in our nearby
Mountain stream mingled with the sweet sounds of birds.
Dawn draws back night’s veil and caresses the mountains.
One by one hill’s brighten,
Valleys darken, waiting their turn, crops of gold and green appear.
Sunlight whispers across the mountain tops, leaving its warmth.
The world gently comes to life as the sun reaches deep into its soul.
The magic of a Wyoming morning, it is God’s gift to us.
© June Johnston July 30, 2017
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Such a beautiful poem and photo! I wish I had your way with words. We miss Wyoming!