"Top Of The Morning!"
Patches of silv'ry dew on young green grass
Catch me smiling back as I do pass;
Catch me, too, do leafy tweets I hear---
Little tings of May that treat my ear.
Day has come up perfect, winds are mild;
Scattered clouds like puffballs pop on by.
Sunlight glances 'round---a wond'ring child---
Fondling swinging wires that wrap the sky.
Drivers start their engines, pick up speed,
Now the street is live with Steel's deed!
Laughing, I exult to stop right here,
Writing down the "ups" that are so dear.
The "tings" of line 4 is not a typo.
Copyright © Brian Faulkner | Year Posted 2008
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