I
This glorious sunrise is our reward,
Coldly blazing across Jan’ry sky.
Its light pierces as t’were a silver sword
But, in reflection, cheers and warms the eye.
The canopy above is burnt from grey
Red flames awake and colour the morning.
The heart is quicken’d by this break of day
Both tremulous and stirred by its dawning.
Come the end, when sun and fire diminish,
We sigh, and bid the ember’d orb farewell;
For, out of light, our hopes travails must finish
And in out rest their burg’ning bloom must dwell.
But new days sparked under that greatest fire
Rekindle us so that we ne’er may tire.
Coldly blazing across Jan’ry sky.
Its light pierces as t’were a silver sword
But, in reflection, cheers and warms the eye.
The canopy above is burnt from grey
Red flames awake and colour the morning.
The heart is quicken’d by this break of day
Both tremulous and stirred by its dawning.
Come the end, when sun and fire diminish,
We sigh, and bid the ember’d orb farewell;
For, out of light, our hopes travails must finish
And in out rest their burg’ning bloom must dwell.
But new days sparked under that greatest fire
Rekindle us so that we ne’er may tire.
© Jack Blackburn, 12th January 2013
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