Driving the day

Driving the day is a dream:

Invariably dressed for company,
Its wares on proud display
Travellers and tourists together alike
Are welcomed by the day

But not by the night...

The night sends trespassers packing,
Wanting to be left alone

Its large lands looming 

Like a bad bruise brewing

The light sky succumbs

For those darker souls and soils to stew

And trucks take charge of traffic

Corralling cars like little lost sheep

Darting into tidy queues

Frightened eyes blinking

Puny horns baa-baa-beep 

As Venus watches, warns and waits, like -  

A tiny ray of day.