Dew


sweet on the tongue,

balancing, lingering–

singularly sticky-sweet,

honey liquid gold,

glistening drops drip down

delicately, a delicacy

for the earthy carpet it nurses,

a feast on the air for all

satisfied to simply savor

the gifted grace of a new day

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About thefreescribbler

My life is one of words. I am a scribbler, whose thoughts are best expressed through adjectives and phrases and punctuation marks. I would not go so far as to call myself a writer, although many would disagree. I’m characterized more by my unfinished works and half-embodied ideas, scraps of stories and parts of poems. Maybe one day I’ll be a writer, but I’m okay with being a scribbler right now. It fits my personality and style, and best expresses my aims. I’m not trying to create some lofty version of literature. I’m just a kid blogging about life. View all posts by thefreescribbler

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