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A Morning Poem

The wind blown trees

Make the rustling of leaves

Fill the wood with sound

From the top to the ground.

 

Birds of the morning flitter and fly

Singing songs to nature, telling it hi.

Squirrels race about, going to and fro,

Hiding nuts away for an upcoming snow.

 

Bursting from the horizon come the sun’s rays,

Painting vibrant colors on a new dawning day.

A palette of orange and red on the sky,

A glorious morning, a new sunrise.

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Written by
robert-eilers
American
Published
May 1, 2010
Lines·Words
12·79
Permission

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