When the sun gets out of her bed
And stretches her rays across the way
All I see is
'Buy me, buy me, buy me,'
Even the litter, minor billboards
advertising useless things.
But when twilight rides in on the late afternoon breeze,
I finally sense quiet tranquillity,
And I get to breath it in.
These hours I start to delight in,
As the stars become candles,
Guiding me to see,
And the moon the mad conductor
As she orchestrates the waves and my dreams.
While the squirrels sleep,
A land where noting has price tag,
But a lot can be achieved.
By Mikael
The Bugle 