The World Conspires

Idle Verse: A Poetry Feature

Author's own photograph. A Pembrokeshire dawn.

The World Conspires

Sometimes I think the world conspires, strives,

To place beauty before my eyes.

I wake, and ache, bone and muscle protesting

The ritual of work wresting

Me from a bed which seems so tempting,

So I rise, lamenting

The necessity of waking.

And there, before my eyes

Glows a sunrise

Of late summer …