Sunday, March 13, 2016

Three AM


A dishevelled dame in gown and sock
Rises every day at three o' clock
And what comes of day she waits to see
But first she must brew her Earl Grey Tea
And then in peace she sits to wait
For dawn to rise above the garden gate
And of all the things long life has blessed
She knows a new day can never be guessed
And as the hour till light slips quietly by
Her hopes and dreams all take wing and fly
She sips her tea and remembers it all
As moon falls to earth behind garden wall
And as memories dim and come to clear
Sun comes at four am and the day is here
With cup now drained and memories spent
Awaits a new adventure that heaven has sent
And as the first rays break softly upon her face
She can care no more of self, or time, or space