Blue Morning Poem by Ron van der Horst

She rests where the soft light falls,
quiet as the break of day.
A Romanian beauty in blue lace,
where shadows and sunlight play.

Silk like a whisper on her skin,
azure against the white of the sheets,
the morning tracing gentle lines
where dream and waking softly meet.

Her hair spills dark across the pillow,
like night reluctant to depart,
and in the calm of that small room
she looks like a living work of art.

No words disturb the fragile hush,
only the light upon her face—
a moment caught between two breaths,
a quiet, effortless grace.