Today it is only the sun
Singing glorious matins
In the fuschia pink
Of a winter dawn
Frost shining
On silver grasses
The crows shine pink
In the early sunrise
The craggy tops
Bright with silver
Tinkling streams are lit
With little songs
And then the gold
Flooding the valley
Sharpening the edges
Bringing joy
to the little wren's heroic tune
Deep down in the dusky bushes
And lending the Fieldfares
A lilac hue.

So. This is not usual

Wow!

A crescent moon, in the rosy gloaming.