MORNING DEW
Each sparkling bead, on the blade of green, A drop of the sun’s first gift, unseen, Lies patiently waiting for shadows to spin, A world holding still, as the day begins.
As the sun stretches forth, its golden embrace, Every glimmer on grass a fragile trace, Of dreams in the dawn, soft whispers to keep, As nature unravels the night’s gentle sleep.
The flowers once shy in their night-shaded gloom, Now unfurl with a stretch, with a sigh, they bloom. Each crystalline droplet melts into the air, A promise of life, of beauty laid bare.
- Hope Mirrlees