A Day's Pun Poem by john wake

The wind colliding with the trees
Echoed sounds of unoiled hinges
Branches pitching to be free

And the sky dull gray
Piled with stacks of clouds
“for a fine day, I pray”

But the journey jogs on
With the marching sun
Who maneuvers though the marsh of clouds

Night kneels the sun
“well she didn’t shine much”
And the moon, he penetrates the sky
With the street lights
They illuminate
The night
But, such is the pun
That now the light shields stars.
the sky still dull