Morning Magic | My Poem

   How do you describe magic of morning,

Whose spell could be broken by just a sigh.

I wish I had a device,

Which could capture this surprise.

 

Silence of a sleeping child,

Freshness of a blooming rose,

Serenity of a water stream,

Allude my wildest dream

 

Little drops of cool water on the skin,

Smooth air of cotton pushing around,

Fresh air of elixir,

How do you describe this wonder.

 

The freshness, the serenity, the silence of the morning

Is so ephemeral,

Does describing it destroy the awe,

Isn’t that the Heisenberg’ law?