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Sunday morning, the sixth of March
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By Nan Forehand
Other Poems by Nan Forehand

Author's note: I want you to be totally in the moment with me as you read this poem.  It is a glorious morning as the welcome rain nourishes the earth.  Timely rain, awesome breakfast, loving family and then off to church we go.  This is the day the Lord has made.  We will rejoice and be glad in it!

Sunday morning, the sixth of March


beyond the dilapidated fence

lies the meadow green

wet, naked limbs nourished

by the Sunday morning rain

down by the valley, accross the ridge

South Yadkin River flows

cardinal, finch and chickadee

shake off droplets and continue to feed

black lab expells hot, moist breath

on the cold, wet window pane

little tabby cat, a.k.a. water baby

cries excitedly at the door

jumps off the porch into the rain

through the house and to the deck

around the corner, I hear her tinkle bell

fragrance of pancakes and sausage

caress the fresh morning air

hot coffee and smiles across the table

peace, love and harmony linger there

Sunday morning, the sixth of March


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Submitted: Sunday, March 6, 2011

Last Updated: Sunday, March 6, 2011

About the Poet
I grew up in rural North Carolina, married for 38 years to my best friend and soulmate, Allen, who retired almost 17 years ago from the Air Force after 24 years of service to our beloved America. We have a daughter, Ashley ( and son-in-law, Kris) and, a son, John, and, our two beautiful grand daughters, Amelia and Haley, and Isaac, our only grandson, all blessings from God. We have four cats; Mr. Peabody, Missy, aka Middle Kitty and Tabby, aka Little Kitty, and Gracie. I've seen a lot of hard times and God has always been here for me to see me through them. I am a vessel God can use to help others in need. If I could be described in one word, it would be that I am an encourager.

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