The Dawn of the Morning

May 31, 2011
The dawn of the morning has not quite come
Sweet dew rests on honey suckles that sway
Humming birds that perch on flowers hum
The beautiful meadow is where I lay
The sun fills the sky with a hint of rose
Trees and leaves are green and ever so lush
Sleepily as I awake from my doze
The beauties of the wonders make me blush
The river flows lightly with a gray hue
Wild flowers flourish on the river bank
Sending fresh sweet breezes my way
Whenever the wind decides to pass through
I leap stone to stone whistling a merry tune
The soft wind catches my hair
Tossing and swirling it about
A nest of a bird carries eggs so blue
Tiny speckled things
Delicate and ever so fragile
Listen closely and you will hear the larks
Patterns of deep-green moss thrive on the bark of dogwoods
Flowers on the brim of blooming
Peeking out with dots of pink
Everything is so beautiful I can barley speak

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