Sunrise

The morrow's dawn breaks

A horizon laced, saffron...

Gives slumber pause,

And banishes lingering shadows.

The moon, heavy with sleep,

Finds its rest among the stars,

Laced with the dust of dreams,

Now but a memory.

The nightingale bids good day,

To the jolly sparrow;

As she, the worm plucks,

From the dew laced soil.

The morrow has come...

And leaves not a bitter taste.

But brings with it renewal,

Laced with hope replete.