Bright sunny days and cool nights we wake beside the fires light and to the tweet of the twite. we give a prayer for the day to go right. And for the plight of our ancestors. Whom we raise stones to celebrate. But who will know these rites if we don't tell? Aside from those who Dawn all white?

The silence surrounds
Laying on the green grass
Staring at the setting sun, it's a reddish round
A Twite's trill treads all around

A benign breeze breaks,
helping the wafting wherry
The perpetual pier
gathered a gleeful gaggle

The lulling lake
a serene sight
beauty bound
A dream domicile