Still the World is Blessèd in My Sight

Grey-drawn and grim the early morning light
The oiled egg spits and curses in the pan
But still the world is blessèd in my sight

Where blackbird sings to set the garden right
Honeysuckle drips on rusted watering can
Grey-drawn and grim in early morning light

Coffee black and bitter as a lonely night
While soft egg yolks trace golden where they ran
And still the world is blessèd in my sight

Rain patters, blurring colours almost bright
But ticking clock dictates the workday plan
Grey-drawn and grim in early morning light

Key turns in lock, then turns back to lock tight
I see on distant hills the soft rain fan
And  still the world is blessèd in my sight

I linger, one calm breath before the fight
Recall a kiss back when this day began
Grey-drawn and grim the early morning light
And still the world is blessèd in my sight

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