My first poem in years: It rained last night

it rained last night and what do i see
there is a bit of it still hanging about in every other tree

this queen of all mornings
under a cream full of sky
you can almost hear the quiet sun smiling
the most radiant beauties, we all know
are always a little shy

like the laughter of a girl
with a husky kind of voice
the morning rids me of myself and
this queer kind of day world
of too little hope and too much choice

it rained last night and what do i see
there is a bit of it still hanging about in every other tree

as if by my gaze alone
the morning seems to be going and heaving
(like a strange girl who is on a train (i'm on the platform)
and as her train is leaving)
the burdens of all mornings before
of when your heart sees no light
and your soul shuts the door
on your hopes and dreams and your stead
but i know this morning, this very one
will once again smile on my sleepy head

it is a pretty morning and many more can be
makes my grateful, tearful soul bend down on the knee
what a sky, what a day, what a chockful of joy
reminds this man about that little boy
who once was the dreamer, far from in vain
who maybe was lost, but can be found again

the morning now, quietly, it departs
leaves hope thats a tiny twinkle
like that of a little star
on some lucky and awaken(ed) hearts

it rained last night and what do i see
there is a bit of it still hanging about in every other tree