Creation

Seven days had come and passed,
He smiled when he saw his work done.
The world below was finished at last
And was waking to the eighth day's sun.

The gardens below bloomed in brilliant array,
The forests were towering with trees,
The sparkling waters were brimming with life,
But somehow he still was not pleased.

So he took from the sun some shining light,
And added a mooonbeam or two
For a coat so pure and shining white,
Then made eyes from the morning dew.

The crest of a wave soon flowed from its neck,
And tossed on a tail far behind.
But it needed still some finishing touch
That would make it one of a kind.

So he gathered a handful of stardust
To create a shimmering horn.
And he smiled at his greatest masterpiece,
The magnificent unicorn.