Comments about Orly Palmaria
The morning sun exalts the day.
It paints the blues of sky above,
The amber hue of drying hay,
The snow of cotton-winged dove.
It sets the pines to let the scent
That fills the woods the fragrance due,
And pays the singing birds the rent
To serenade a morning dew.
And only all about that dew
Must one be fretted much with care,
That sole a drop is sure and true
The reason sun does burn and flare.
Just a single drop of moisture,
Born at night in icy darkness
Down that wicked pleasure verdure,
Keeping secrets none did ...