Beaded BeautyA Poem by Chase
The day is young with dew that drips.
Dew that plips and dew that slips. Dew that plops as rainfall does, from way up in the canopy tops. Dew that glistens on the blade of every green in every glade. Dew that makes the morning land shine anew, as silky grand, for morning dew has touched our earth and with it comes a new day's birth. © 2015 ChaseAuthor's Note
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Added on October 14, 2015Last Updated on October 14, 2015 |

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