There is something about..

There is something about the morning sun: So much different from the evening one. It bathes the world in a soft gentle glow, awakening nature from slumber's hold. Soft whispers carried on a gentle breeze, Like faint, gentle sounds of a troubadour. As morning light breaks through the swaying trees. It's the quiet hush of the dawn's first chore. But as the sun is drawn toward the west, It rouses my muse, a poet's delight. As it casts about in its golden quest, It prepares for its journey into night. It's as though nature gave the earth two suns: Morning and evening: two different ones. Pogo