The Song of Day

Creeping over the faded blue
spreads a blush so shy and new.
Slowly, quietly clears the way
for the coming glorious day.
Now appears a fledgeling ray,
the golden first of a golden day,
fondling awake a million heads
of creatures asleep in their beds.
Hark! the wings stir in the trees
and voices rise on the morning breeze.
Some step boldly, some are shy.
Alone or in herds, they run, jump, fly.
Under the eye of the overhead Sun,
the life that belongs to Day is begun.
On and on, at leisure and in haste,
until the sunlight dims in the west.
Chattering and chirping, they head their way.
Time's come to rest, its the end of the day.
Now they slumber, alike bird and beast,
and wait for the Sun to smile in the east.

Night

A lone star shines in the velvety expanse,
and the fireflies begin their glittering dance.
As pinpricks appear in the darkling sky,
the creatures of Night come, cautious and shy.
Quiet now, hear the millions prowl.
A soft rush of wings from the swooping owl.
They fly, they run, they leap and crawl.
They come in answer to Midnight's call.
Unheard by your ears, by your eyes unseen,
the song of the dark is set to begin.
Dancing and singing in the purple night,
they hum and they thrum, a merry sight.
Oh! The East lightens, Dawn has come.
As one they all scatter from the glaring sun.
And now they wait, silent, yet alive,
for the skies to darken, for Night to arrive.

Scrap

never will I relent
or be ever unbent
fly leap and jump
over, land and..*BUMP!*
be unbent with my dent.