The pure delight of each day's dawn,
When birdsong hurries along the morn.
The grass with frost on every blade,
Like silver crystals gently laid.
Another one from the archives! Very short, wrote it as I was hurrying along the lane for the bus years ago.
It may be short but it says a lot. Very nice.
Thats kind, Thank you X
It may be short but it says a
It may be short but it says a lot. Very nice.
Thats kind, Thank you X
Thats kind, Thank you X