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!