Along the cliffs,
the Swifts,
dart and dive through early drifting mists.

The clover, pink,
lifts its globular heads to morning dew,
and a handful of intrepid cyclists.

A fog horn sounds,
across the water,
echoing above the birds shrill songs
making them scatter.

No matter.

They will return again,
and resume their bright and cheerful communal chatter.

A seagull rides the thermals, its habitude,
hovering.
He's shrewd, always searching for food,
and one feels that one could easily intrude
upon this awakening solitude.

Glancing out to sea, you observe
that the haze is clearing,
and as you gaze,
you raise your eyes skywards
and liaise with the firmament,
your mind meditating
in a contented praise.

Ernestine Northover

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awakening-solitude/