BOO!

In thy word comes a scrumptious day,
Filled with dew scattering among the grass,
While the crickets chirp away the night,
Into thy morning bringing irritation, yet exhilaration,
Loving is not finding what is in thy words, 
It is feeling thy words, in a way that is unexplanatory,
Beginning with a day ,
Ending with a night,
This tail, 
Had no fright night per say,
It came from a litter,
as small as a winter snowflake,
it began as wondering woo,
then sprouted out in a big ole' BOO.