Morning

The morning breaks, in slow degrees of sunshine,
The first stirrings of a sleepy dawn,
Who shakes her tousled head ,
And reluctantly bids adieu
To night's comforting bed.
The clouds slowly awake,
To the touch of the first pristine light,
The warm glow of the sunrise
Is a fascinating sight.
The capricious breezes blow,
Sometimes swift, or slow,
And alarm clocks
Rouse those in slumber
To get them in their boats
To row
Through a new day.