Gentle day, dawn born of dove’s down and gray. Your embrace I feel, come at last, the long night’s woes to heal. Gentle day, softly touch, I pray, for the wounds of dark are deep and wide. They lay upon my heart like a red-born tide. Onward gentle dawn and into the ginger fray.
I wish a day of cloudy mirth, of showering drops that smiling fall. A winsome morning with no ill tidings to any at all. I wish for a restful time to grace both me and mine. Granted may it be, and I’ll hie to pray unto the shrine, to bring the lady gifts and libations of wine.
Further yet the day be drawn, the fiery chariot of Helios rising in the wake of my wished for storm. Golden glory on cloud canvas painted, the fiery trails of his noble traces. Blessed is this day and well my wish was heard.
Long do I wish this afternoon, ever lasting would still end too soon. On and on my wish wish endure, keep my faith and shine. If at last the gentle day must end, shroud in mist this perfect dusk of mine. Let me keep this wondrous memory to live ever on within my mind.