The whispy silver strands that grace the morning sky
Are reflectors of the sun at early sunrise
It constantly changes the scene with radiant surprise
Like a catalogue page of shirts of different tie-dye
What a delight, how can I choose just one
For each second produces glorious morning delight
Filling my being with each new colorful sight
The crows, roosters, crickets each sing praise to Son
(Quatrain with internal rhyme.)