Poetry Challenge, v. 4.0, Days 21 and 22

Well, I get one day right, and then....get too enthralled with Grandma's stories to get to a poem the next day.  You know,  I think I still win.  But it's a bright sunny morning here, and the day has begun anew, full of promise.  There's only a couple ways in which it could be better, so I'll take it and be happy.  And write poems. 

Sun Salutation

In the stillness of
the dark morning
the pre-dawn sky is pierced;
a shrill whistle of
waking life
that signals the new day,
an orchestral cue
a tuning note
that begins the overature
of the morning
ever building
a crescendo until the sun
peeks over the trees
and through the window,
bidding me to wake
to new adventures and possibilities.

Little Child
Little child,
how come you here,
amist the changing world,
the raucus tide,
to be a shell of Man,
and empty inside?
Were you listening in your school-days,
were you learning,
were you trying,
were you away from the land of dreams,
youth and fancy dying?
How come you here
to this place and time,
a prescribed venture your worn route,
when there is so much
for you to dream about?


Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid