Here’s an Italian sonnet I wrote for my British Lit. class. I wrote it the morning it was due! My backyard gave me plenty of inspiration. The poem describes the atmosphere of a sunrise, but I could say a whole lot more just on the concept of a new day!
Out here I stand in air so damp and chill.
In gray and cloudy light, it’s hard to see
All but my very bright white book, and me.
I strain my eyes to see far down the hill
Where doe and growing fawns will eat their fill
Well hid in coats the color of a tree.
The songbirds now are all awake and see
The burning gold of sun will rise up still.
I love this miracle of day anew
When all the world’s alive and clean and fresh!
Dawn is, by far, the time of day that’s best.
It is a pity that it’s seen by few;
The morning, painted with an eastern blush,
To which creation’s song will glad attest!