The green Earth sends her incense up
To greet the breaking day
From valleys and meadows
Comes the fragrance of new mown hay.

The morning mist rises lazily
Above the streams and ponds
Fragile tendrils of moisture
Gathering in wispy fronds.

The birds are chirping mightily
Heralding the dawn
There's a gentle stirring rustle
Morning movements of a fawn.

My horse and I enter the forest
While the dew is still on the leaves
She lowers her head to the water
Where she stands up to her knees.

Small creatures scurry before us
Indignant at being disturbed
By a big-footed man-smelling stranger
Intruding into their world.