A Dawn Picnic Of Pickled Eggs Poem by Clive Culverhouse

up from the east
rose the sun for a feast
with the moon who was still up at dawn
the two for a banquet
upon a tartan blanket
and ate pickled eggs on the lawn

so bright was the sun
at what had begun
with the moon who was desperately shy
the two sat for hours
enjoying the flowers
until it was time for goodbye

the sun did then go
after getting so low
but the moon had decided to stay
we'll do it again
perhaps go on a train
to the beach for a lovely day