Morning Song Poem by William B. Deutscher

Take it from here the silver night moon round
Only to end at the light shivered sound
Of the peep and the tweet greening fade mist
Morning quietude; peremptory kiss
To the sully of poachers and poochers alike
In the glade grassy dropp of the dew, sun strikes
On a slip of the morning in the forest now
Without asking time or anyone how
Woken once with the air fluttering blue day
And the moving shine of the dream thrust away
From the limping flash to the bright churling chime
Of the peevishly prancing morning time
Resplendent in streaks of trilling song tune
With morning birth lasting until the noon.