What wondrous joy is to be found in each new day
Be there skies of the brightest blue or dowdiest grey
To awake when dawns first shafts of golden light
Bids adieu to the darkness of the previous night
Glancing through the windowpane, one sees
An orange sun glimmering though distant trees
Such a glorious day with so much to do
Where e'er you go, enjoy each view
A grand old oak standing sedately tall
The thunderous cascading of a waterfall
To walk in meadows where the grass is lush
With oxlip and cowslip in there first flush
Amongst the many other true wild flowers
To lay for minutes, or for a few enchanting hours
Listening to the placid humming of the bumble bees
Or a songbirds voice carried on a gentle breeze
And then when the suns radiance is fading fast
As the shadows lengthen to there very last
We can with all truthfulness and conviction say
What wondrous joy there is in each new day?