I break dawn
with a sledgehammer,
splintering the night
and scattering the stars,

and with hands made of stains,
I spend my days
piecing it back together.

She has a special Siren's song
Pastel paisley, passion's Dawn.
She's aloof, she takes on airs,
Wearing seashells in her hair.
Abalone, mother of pearl
Arms that take in all the world!
She Chuckles softly
with the birds
She speaks to stars
without a word.
She bids them run!
She bids them hide!
She tucks the mountains
to her side.
Then, whispering,
she turns to wink
The morning Sky
will blush to Pink!
Yes! Desert Thrashers
laugh out loud!
She's Tangled in
the pewter clouds!
She whistles low
her magic tune,
The dew soaked desert's
her perfume.
Though it's the Sun
she courts and woos
She entices all...
the morning muse.

Catherine jarvis
Write of Passage aka
SoulSurvivor
2018

The Dawn is rising.
The Sun is shining.
Bees are buzzing.
Birds are humming.
Butterflies are dancing.
Clouds are forming. 
Rain is falling.
Water springs are flowing.
Meadows are chanting.
Flowers are blossoming.
Mountains are bowing.
Natures is playing a melody with magnificent beauty.

Hussein Dekmak