AND THE MORNING SPREADS

The morning spread in a flood tide of light

Driving away the last lingering shadows of the night

The hazy sliver of a moon which from the sky hung askew

Winked at the dewdrops few

And then was gone

Pierced by the glowing darts of dawn

But the dewdrops few sparkled in the verdant lawn.

The blades of grass

 Straightened their spines, revived by the kiss of a new dawn.

The birds sang

 Amid the cling clang

 Of the peals of labor

 As a sleepy eyed neighbor greeted his next door neighbor

The early bird pounced at the worm

Onward ploughed the laborer, head high, step firm.

With wind milling arms, the boisterous breeze

Toyed with the locks of the trees.

The quiescent trees, no longer willing to rest

Sloughed and quivered with a new zest.

Merrily they murmured in multiple keys

The lonely orphan under the tree mistook the sloughing for a lullaby

He closed his eyes and   bid goodbye

 To the world which was waking up to a new light.

Quietly he fled into the shadows of the night.

Throughout the night in the factory he had labored

So, he slipped into sleep- the poor little boy, grimy and ill favored.