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Thursday, December 8, 2011

Morning


Morning

Morning in all it's glory,
seeping through my windowpane

Dawn's break of the day,
washed clean and fresh, again

Birds are waking slowly,
singing to the dawn

Dew has left a thousand
tiny prisms dancing
across the lawn

I can smell the coffee
brewing in the pot

Another day of glorious
wonder will not be forgot

Rising from my bed,
to drink a cup of brew

I walk my little stone path
as my feet are bathed in dew

Lynn West
(c) 2009

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