In the hours before the breaking of dawn
The time when stars take a moment to yawn
Just before the sun rises o’er the hill
The leaves in the trees are ever so still.
It’s the quiet that sighs passing us by
Leaving us wishing we knew how to fly
The clouds in the sky seem to beckon me
Calling my name just as though I were free.
My freedom has strings you know what that means
The one place to fly is left in my dreams !
Claire V. Bogdanos 