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Sunrise

		               What a splendour to watch the sun
                                 In the early hours of the morn
                                     Rising in the far horizon
                                Behind trees on the nearby hills,
                               Lending a golden hue to the sky
                              And brightening the hillside fields.

                             Birds start to hum their lovely songs
                              Gaily hopping from branch to branch,
                                  Carrying some dry grass along 
                                  To build their nest atop a tree
                                    Or just fluttering in the air
                                  As a creature gay and free.

                                  Flowers do open their petals 
                               To welcome the rays of the sun,
                                   Allow cheerful bees to settle
                                And collect nectar for their hives
                             As the sun slowly slides along the sky 
                                  To sustain every form of lives.

                                The sun follows its steady march
                                    Enlightening all on its way
                                  As it mounts the celestial arch
                               To soon reach the mid of the day
                               And drives hikers to seek a shade
                               From its resplendent radiant rays. 

                               The sun follows its constant march
                                 And with evening coming anon
                        The horizon is parched with a crimson hue
                                With the mellowing rays of the sun
                               And the sky, hitherto seamless blue,
                           Starts to darken with the onset of dusk.

                             Soon the sizzling sun goes for a rest
                                 While a crescent moon glittering 
                                   Dimly from up high at its best 
                                And stars flickering from the sky
                           Faintly light the lanes and serve as guide,
                              To their homely nest, late passers-by.

                              The sun will surely rise to-morrow
                           Behind the hills and their golden rays
                                Transform the eastern horizon
                                  For any soul to be amazed;
                              But shall I rise to behold the sun
                           Just work out its wonders on earth!


Placed 5th in
Premier Choice No.1190 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Written 22 February 2023
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