The Sun Rose Red

As Dawn cracks over the horizon The small crescent moon takes a bow Greeting her was a delight For she paints silver in his hair The moon was hardly visible Painted the same shade of blue That the sky chose as a cloak On this morning of early dew The cloak of blue had a trail of mist That shrouded the hills and vales A misty blue to silver gray That was light and very airy still The birds enjoy the cloak That fanned the air with damp Cooling mist of the night But soon the sun put on another Cloak as she became much brighter With her dress of brilliant red That she wore to grace our summer's day A cloak as colored as poinsettias' tips On a gray December day This means that the sun Will bring heat with her as hot as A fiery oak wood coal And the cool of the morn Will go as the summer's sun Has bid us a warm hello The moon with his silver hair Disappearing into night To another land so swiftly Did he go to bring it a high tide While ours will go very low The sun rose cloaked in red Bringing her heated stove She will bake and cook some bread Heating the south as across the sky goes