First light of dawn is deep hue smalt
Which fades and pales to powder blue
As background noise - M62,
Increases, never seems to halt,
Provides a pedal or a drone,
Incessant, rushing monotone
Above whose roar, like distant sea,
An early bird, quite close at hand
Atop the neighbour’s holly tree
States his subject,starts a strand,
A timid hesitating phrase,
And pauses, thinks he is at fault,
As none take up his shy refrain,
But keeps his nerve and tries again,
Insists on morning, takes command,
Restates the subject of his fugue.
Until another joins in,
High in pitch, short whistling,
Which harmonises nearby snoring
Contented, snorting sighs of praise.
And then a pigeon on the roof
Hoots down the chimney in disdain,
Just as the wall clock in the hall
Strikes six and its sweet ringing chime,
Is answered by a robin’s call,
And then a far off collared dove
Starts up a football chant, quite boring.
A magpie sneers and jeers to rhyme
Each scoffing shout an ill tempered rant,
Which causes counterpoint to stall,
By leaving others feeling small.