fleeting dew disappears, in gardens of blazing petals,
another day recedes, ushering in night,
yearning to be caressed by the moisture of morn,
(to strains of lilting birdsong)
when another day is born … … …
fleeting dew disappears, in gardens of blazing petals,
another day recedes, ushering in night,
yearning to be caressed by the moisture of morn,
(to strains of lilting birdsong)
when another day is born … … …
Great work!
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Many thanks my friend ! 😊✌👍
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Reblogged this on Still Another Writer's Blog.
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