Under a large Oak do I spot
the peaking Eye of a new Day.
It brings a tear which I'll admit not.
Of sadness or delight I'm not sure to say.
Not quite too hot,
nor dark with decay.
In such a way I ought
to smile and say
in a thought
that such beauty could say
even the man caught
in his sorrowful way.
The Night is nought
death and decay.
But a Sun caught
and waiting to Play.
~JWG
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
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