The Morning


The Morning
by Dan Bickert

The vigil of the dimly lit orb of the night
Is promptly to be a kind of
Daily Circadian swan song, once again
As freshly gathered dew drops
Forenoon's ornaments
Frou the flowers, leaves, and grass
As the morning begins and before the sun’s full return
From its time illuminating the other side of the world
Mid-day will eventually approach
While for the moment pale moonbeams linger
From the beautiful eye of the night
They dance faintly below compassionate stars
Which lavish as fair jewels upon the nighttide
From their beautiful sparkle unconscious
To the happenings and goings on below
Refulgently, daybreak is over-early to open anew
And to bid forth bounteous light
Brilliantly, the night’s shrouding darkness
Is being unconcluded
As the sun begins to come out
To behold upon these environs beneath
And thereupon slowly the morn faintly wanes
And its fluorescence is slowly quitted
Thusly, burnishing the day's full luminosity
Moreover, burgeoning buds are to bursting open
And pedals are to unfurl
As birds to begin to croon to their heart's content
And to make melody from a joie de vivre
And from the gaiety of the new day at hand
Whilst in trees, and hedges, these plumage perdure
Them, cock-full with reckless mirth
Them, wide-eyed and chirpy after their night's repose
With their awakening one knows that the eve has ended
And that the dance of a day has commenced again

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