Brooking Springs Station
By Robert Louis Stevenson
The morning star paled slowly,
The cross hung low to the sea,
And down the shadowy reaches
The tide came swirling free.
The luscious purple vapour
Rose from the river’s breast,
The kingfisher came darting
Out of his crannied nest.
The bulrushes and reed beds
Put off their sallow grey,
And burnt with cloudy crimson
At the “Dawning of the Day.”
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It’s a beautiful poem, Rainee. đŸ™‚
Thanks Ranu!
Great start to the day!
Beautifully matched photos to the poem Rainee. Great post.
Lovely combination of words and image, Rainee.