
As sunlight inspects its hue,
The summer morning dew,
Quickly bids the Sun adieu.
Was it Dawn’s archer’s bow,
Or perhaps in times long ago,
Grass, trees, shrub and flower,
Volunteered for daily adventure,
To the secret gardens Babylon.
Where, each morning the Sun
Melts heaven’s permafrost ice,
Into a sacred hanging chalice,
Then carefully shepherds a drop,
To each petal and grass leaf top,
As offerings to life’s morning cup.
Loved the flow and rhythm, Suzette! Excellent work ☺️
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Thank you for your kind words
Jojo. They mean alot. Have a great day and weekend. Peace😊
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You are very welcome, suzette. Well deserved. To you too a great day and weekend wishes! Love 😊
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“Life’s morning cup . . . ” I like it!
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So glad you liked it Liz. Thank you for your kind comments and support. A treasure. Happy Friday and weekend. Blessings 😊
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