Posted in Poetry

meadow at dawn

The first ray of light from heaven dispels
The gray silence of night lost with lusters
With pale hues of the sun in the soft sweetness
Lingering in a lake of shimmering waters.

Iris unfolds the wondrous seven colors
Weaved into an arch of dreams and hopes
Always new and fresh in never-ending grace
That fills with pleasure the hearts of beholders.

Aurora releases dewdrops from crystal buds
Made of moonbeams, stardusts, and starlights
Kept from a visiting moon and traveling stars
Washing the faces of earth with heavenly pearls.

Author:

I write stuff of my interest that does not interest anyone in my blog. No grammarians, no copy editors, no marketers, no cynics are welcome.

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