Morning Dew

The morning dew sparkled with the mist.
I walked through the meadow and smiled.

A few white flowers lined the path.
I saw a frog in the pond nearby.
He jumped away and I was amused.

Every morning I repeat this ritual.
In the snow, I crunch the crust of ice.
If the rain is falling I wear a hat.

I enjoy the beauty of a farm.
I seem to find each day as a gift.
I wonder whether I will leave soon.
My family is moving and I must choose.

W. Wayne B.

Follow me on Twitter: @williamwayneb

© 2012 W. Wayne B.

About William Wayne Smith

I'm a poet, library fan and maker.
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