Morning Dew

The spider web

On the meadow glaze,

Like an ocean

Of silver

Dream.

 

The glowing sheen,

of the sunshine gleam,

Diamond webs

That dance in the

Breeze.

 

The moistened dew

That bonds like glue,

Holding fast

To each fine

Thread.

 

It creates a scene

of early dawns dream,

Paints a picture of such

Etiquette.

 

Then the sunrise high

Returns dew to the skies,

Then gone is the ocean of

Web.

  © Jamest West

A Poet's Call

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