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
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