Four-ten A.M.??
The bedroom clock must be sound asleep!
How else could the room be as bright as high noon?
It can't be four-ten A.M.!
Then how to explain this ethereal glow?
I bound out of bed to peek through the blinds,
And what do I find? A cream-colored moon
Smiling on new-fallen snow.
Such magical light! I can't help but surmise
That fairies and elves will shortly arrive
To sing and to dance, or enact a romance
Before my still sleep-studded eyes.
*
No fairies arrived. But that cream-colored gem
That hung in the sky and dazzled the snow
Said: "Back to bed, foolish Child! Can't you tell from the clock
It's only four-ten A.M.!"
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