Feasts of attracting waves begin to rise,

The crimson, fruity flame constealing from sight,

Combusting pillows swing out of the sky,

Whisling breaths cresendo octaves high.

 

Feathers serenade the day asleep,

A whire sphere pops its head in for a peek,

Humming soundling to there heart tossing melodies,

Contorted with dancing sparks of joyful beams.

 

A trickle of shine clocks in to parade,

Ruling, dismissing the cheerful shade,

Sorrowful, compelled to be extra patient,

More hours venture, for another day it waits

 

Waiting for the music to spray into the night

Bounding serenades release the fervent flight,

The lemon sings beyond the sight,

The silver plate blends in prosperity amongst the twilight.