And with the dawn, comes many things to cast away the night.
The smell of bacon, car horns, an alarm to give one fright.
Foggy fields, cluttered clouds, crowing cocks and howling hounds.
Together create a choir of sounds, smells and sights,
slowly waking with the breaking of the light.
But before all that,
before the crowing and the howling,
before the frying and the clouding,
The harbingers of morn let their song be heard.
The birds sweet tweet.
Through forrests, streets and meadows they meet,
Awaking us all, to the morning we greet.
They liberally gift us with an array of songs and melodys,
And in their doing, freely lifting us from our dreams.