The sun rises from its slumber
and bids the moon farewell;
then, peeking through the curtains,
begins to cast its spell.
My eyes are barely open
and my vision still impaired;
the silence only broken
by the calling of a bird
seeking shelter in the hedgerow -
alone but undeterred.
It sings its song so softly yet
that’s all that can be heard
on this, the morning after, when
my lips no more do tell
of dreams from which I’ve woken
for time has rung its bell.
John Walton
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