Dawn | Poetry

Dawn

Ian Garbett, Oswaldtwistle

Liveried black, the murderous crow cackles in the golden corn.
Sentinel owl calls out his last note at the close of the hunt.
Silver, glistening dew on freshly spun webs, catch early flights.
Shadows, long, slim, retreat slowly, ever facing the rising sun.

To his lair, the patrolling fox returns, night on the town,
Bright lights did he shun, no place for the meek.
Thrush, calls reveille, starts the choral tributes and calls wake
Rustling, stirrings, over ground, underground greet the need for food.

Farmyard cockerel, proud, standing tall, calls loud the day awake,
Cows, moving, orderly queue, line up to give their morning bounty.
Breakfast, cooking, sizzling, the smells through open windows leak,
Tis’ dawn again on the new day, all to greet in measured need.

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