The quiet city, is still half asleep
The morning moon's glow pierces through the sky,
Stars gather close, as if they were in heaps
Watching faint clouds, as they slowly drift by.
What will become of this December morn?
Will the birds sing happily, in the snow?
Forests of green, snow still waits to be worn
Resting underneath, the morning moon's glow.
The morning moon's glow, seems to shine so bright
A cool, crisp feeling, settles in the air,
Nature awaiting, the peek of daylight
To be held with warm, tender, loving care.
