Standing here on the cliff of my childhood home,
My toes hidden in the dew of well established grass,
Holding on to the tiny

Dawn is the time of day most of us forget.
We sleep, tired from the night,
as the sun climbs higher in the sky,
waking grumpily

The birth of light from dark of night,

Dawn breaks forth from its shadowed tomb;

Hope abounding and all is right,

Love

THE DAWN

Reluctantly the mists awaken,

stretching from their velvet dreams.

Although their veils of silken silence

The morning chorus echoes,
In the dreamy mists.
Waking from its peaceful slumber,
In its beauty glowing.

Dewdrops conjure