Chasing the sun

Roused by the tender tickling of the tenuous sun
she stumbled out in the blush pink dawn
hoping to be caressed by its velvety, amber warmth
she ambled on the empty streets in the search of morn

but silvery ponderous puffs invaded the skies
she wandered wilted and was woebegone
twisting the tendrils of tensile hope
she asked the soaring eagles where the sun had gone
the labouring squirrels too had no answer
they were busy rooting around in the lawn

desperate and dismayed she continued to look over the horizon
but her eyes met the dusky grey curtains drawn
wearily she traced her footsteps back
chasing dreams leaving her dispirited and withdrawn
she opened her palm to let her yearning slip by
slipped under covers with a tired yawn
another day, another desire, she won’t give up that easily
to dream and chase them, she was born.