The Dawn

A poem about the beauty of the dawn

Fingers of light are stroking the sky,
It’s three of the clock and morning is nigh.
The first sleepy birdcall I will soon hear
On this summer dawn that they and I share.

I rose from my bed an hour ago,
Covers all tossed, sleep denied to me so.
But the beauty of dawn makes it worthwhile
Who needs to sleep when the morn does beguile?

The stars they all fade, soon they will die
As the light spreads so slowly across the dark sky.
I stand and I watch as black turns to blue
And all becomes covered in soft morning dew.

I breathe in the fragrance of freshness so clean
And listen to sounds of creatures unseen.
Soon all the heavens are filled with sweet song,
Morning has broken, the night is now gone.