Glory Of The Morning(Fantasy) Poem by Jayson Shakya

Through the window, beond the sky
Helper faries went flying by.
Even through the clouds so dark,
Never even stoping for a little spark.

Headed to the sun, in the bright spring,
Everyday they sing and morning they bring.
Rest on clouds both light and dark,
Signs and pictures on them they mark.

Over and under the sun and moon.
I saw them on the lake on a full moon.
Neither you nor I can ever complain;
Their work, The only thing they do to survive