Morning, Noon and Night In the quiet wards of healing light, Where shadows dance and hope takes flight, Nursing hearts with gentle might, Morning breaks, a beacon bright. With dawn's embrace, a new day's birth, Nurses weave compassion's worth, In whispers soft they hand out food, Then tend to wounds, in inspirational mood. Morning sun, a healing ray, Chasing shadows of the night away, In tender care, a promise made, To guide each step, a nurse's trade. Noon arrives, the sun stands high, Yet nurses' spirits never die, They navigate the midday sun, With empathy, their work is done. The Evening sun, a steadfast guide, In nurses' care, no need's to hide, For in their hands, a solace found, A healing rhythm, love unbound. As Night descends, a velvet cloak, Yet nurses stand, their hearts bespoke, In the quiet hours, shadows fall, But in their care, they comfort all. The moonlight whispers secrets deep, As nurses watch, their vigils keep, Through darkness veiled, a steady hand, Guiding patients to dreamland. Nighttime, too, holds healing grace, In nurses' arms, a safe embrace, A lullaby of care so sweet, As dreams unfold, and peace, complete. Morning, Noon, and through the Night, Nurses stand with steadfast might, A tapestry of love they weave, In healing hands, we all believe.
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