Dawn is the time when darkness becomes light; <br />A time when darkness disappears from sight. <br />The ashen veil slowly fades away, <br />To reveal another brand new day. <br /> <br />Up in the trees, the little birds awake, <br />And a pretty chorus, they now do make. <br />There is no other music on earth, quite as sweet, <br />As their cheerful chorus of twitters and tweets. <br /> <br />To the birds' pretty chorus, I lend an ear, <br />And am filled inside with joy and cheer. <br />The little birds are so jolly when they sing; <br />I wonder if they know of the joy they bring? <br /> <br />It is a treat to hear the birds trilling in the trees; <br />The sound is carried to my ears, upon the breeze. <br />Their symphony is carried aloft to where I lay; <br />Such sweet music, no instrument can ever play. <br /> <br />I do not often wake that early in the morn; <br />To witness another new day being born. <br />It is a magical time of the day, I think, <br />But, I am often still having forty winks. <br /> <br />So, for me, to hear their music is very rare, <br />But, I consider it beautiful, beyond compare. <br />Maybe, I should make a date, and set my alarm, <br />So as, more often, by their songs, I am charmed.<br /><br />Angela Wybrow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dawn-chorus-4/
