Kenneth Eugene Peters - Lights after Midnight, 2010
There's only dregs left in the pot now,
As day from night does creep,
And I've only ever seen the sunrise
When I haven't been to sleep.
There's a tap upon my window
As the world shakes off its shroud,
And shadows wash the garden wall
As night falls off the clouds.
The birdsong lilting softly,
The milk cart rattles down the street,
And darkness raises mantle
As the night concedes defeat.
The sunrise takes the hill now,
And raises up its hilt;
Victorious, claims the battle,
As dark the blood that's spilt.
Soft the kettle whistles,
Heralding the day;
And I'm compelled to change allegiance,
Now that night has run away.
