The Morning Wakes
The morning wakes the sound of birds
The trees are flooded with delight
The poet search his heart for words
To bid farewell to sultry night
The dew hangs fresh upon the grass
Baptising my tired fevered feet
I am come home to love at last
Hibiscus and the jasmines sweet
Go stars, go, pale in his bright light
I only need one Sun to guide
One armour for the final flight
When the moon brings the promised tide.
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