As the sun creeps o’er the hill,
it bathes the landscape, yet, so still;
but in an hour, it comes alive,
and then, in two, a real beehive.

Children’s voices break the calm,
as they begin their morning psalm;
off to work and off to school,
the day’s routine has set the rule.

But, for a moment, calm’s restored,
until the daily toil’s aboard;
then noise again disturbs the air,
as it goes about its daily fare.

Cacophonies of sound invade,
the rest of what this day is made;
‘til night, again, brings restive peace,
as most of daytime’s noises cease.

I savour daybreak’s special calm,
for early-birds, a welcome balm;
as noises of the day are near,
I drink this cup with much good cheer.

  Submitted By: Robert LeMessurier