Twinkling stars were receding rapidly, as I had always known they would,
When rouge sun touched the eastern sky, to color a whole neighborhood.

The timid alabaster moon was in hiding, taking with him, his native luster,
As myriad fireflies retreat dark nights, to where the wilder blooms cluster.

A speckled rooster stood with bated breath, anticipating his big moment,
As the insistent rainbows, we seldom see, cannot tolerate postponement.

I was an enthusiastic naturalist, always observing our rich, natural world,
Like viewing strewn cherry blossoms, in the place wild wind once whirled.

My scientific work was consuming, and filled happy days with fascination,
Like the door to wonder opening, once you've received a good education.

I lived on the mauve street of dreams, and dawn's eager, breathless hour,
As silvery moonlight is growing weak, and red sun's not gained full power.

Neighbors danced the dance of the roses, with the help of warm breezes,
On the sunny path to my front door, like an elusive memory which teases.

When my speckled rooster finally crowed, I opened up my dreaming eyes,
And gazed on marigold fields, beyond my window, like an orange surprise.

Then watched as red skies turned pink and golden, like part of my dream,
As if a creative, natural artist was at work, painting ever changing scenes.

I arose in the warmth of mellow sunshine, mid woodland songs and cries,
And had orange juice and buttery toast, on the porch of yellow butterflies.

It was the morning of marigolds and sun, when the magenta finally fades,
Far out in the emerald, grassy country, where gold, frenzied canary stays.

It was the morning of citrine sparkling, upon the full richness of our lives,
Like the sparkling of delicious honey, in the rich chambers of the beehives.

Those scented hours were beauteous, and I wished they would never end,
Like the beauty of seasonal colors, upon which we have learnt to depend.

The vast wheat fields were golden, underneath transparent, cerulean skies,
For today a radiant world was predominantly yellow, just after the sunrise!

The gigantic sunflowers stood at attention, like vigilant sentries of the field,
When I swung on the ample porch of my pleasure, while bluebirds wheeled.

Nature played yellow melodies on a loop, in wild celebration of a risen sun,
On that pretty, memorable day of days, with its treasured life hardly begun.

Birds sang as the sun gained dramatic zenith, like brilliant meteor showers,
And glimpsing the sun of hues and light, I adored much, the golden flower!