A Pirouette of Light

Clang, Clang, Clang,

Sings the solemn Clock underneath the starry Night,

With a small stem of Light hidden from sight,

Joining in the revel, it sang.

As the Sun slowly rised, and rised, and rised,

Up into the now clear sky,

The Light, now budding, looked spry,

As it swayed at the beat of the reprise.

And while it danced, the Sun rose to the zenith,

With the Light finally blossoming,

Its Dance ever so promising,

A Frisk lasting till Sabbath.

Yet the Sun still set, and with a sudden, resounding Bang,

The Light slowly fell,

And bowed as though compelled,

Clang, Clang, Clang.