With brilliance, clad in white, in an enchanted world,
a vision most inviting stands before my very eyes.
She treads a grassy hill beyond which mountains rise
to heaven's heights where fluffs of clouds, as if in pink, are swirled.
Her golden locks are streaming in a gentle breeze.
Her lovely face is beaming. It's a woman-child I see.
My steps are quickening. She seems to beckon me.
But suddenly the sun is streaming; soon the maiden flees!
Who was she? Can you guess? And where has she now gone?
A little hint - she'll come again, but not till night has passed.
Wake up bright and early; she comes and goes so fast!
Look to the sky and watch for her. She is the Goddess Dawn.
For Brian Strand's Poulter Measure (in quatrain form)