Morning...
When the night gets tired of being stillThe sun peeps through a gap in the hill
He hops and climbs without a stop
He finds a spot on a peak top
In the east, colours begin to show
A yellow and an orange begin to glow
The morning breeze tolls the bell
It brings along an earthly smell
The birds open their sleepy eyes
They stretch out to take a flight
A day begins somewhat this way
As I speak a silent prayer
Poetry by Shraddha Manvi
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Written on 2006-07-08 at 20:06
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