The lush green dew that rises.
The mist that covers the lawn.
Droplets of water declare.
Dancers that rise in the morn
swirling. The patterns escape
dreamily into the air.
Oceans of clouds hanging, drape,
having not one single care.
Sun rising o’er the garden,
filling each dewdropp with light.
No heart could ever harden
to this beauty in our sight,
of lush green dew that rises.
Ernestine Northover
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lush-green-dew-duncan-wyllie-ernestine-northover/
