There are days 
that songs are stifled
on a weary and hoarse throat.
Notes no longer glide softly -
raking leaves strewn across
a barely littered lawn;
their butterfly wings
hung up in the wait 
for another sunny day.

There are nights
that stars squander
their luminescence
on unappreciative lovers
roaming listlessly by
on a moonlit shore
their brilliant points
curl up in vain hope
of another cloudless night.

There are mornings
that sizzle on the stove
that sparkle sweet tangy-ness
hands clasping across the table
reliving life's love-filled moments
a warmth in the kitchen
reflects fervent esteem
done up in various colours
for each new morning.