Autumn Morning Poem by James Smith

With shortened days a darker dawn
Has made our early mornings night
We wait to see a sky turn bright.
Shadows conceal us from the morn
Gardens dim lit by moon forlorn
And though we fear our loss of sight
All's well, at last there shines the light
The night is dead the day is born.
Perennialy affected thus
We wish perhaps for lengthy days
As though we could the heavens change
Or make the planets move for us.
Better that we should fix our gaze
On smaller things within our range.