The little dewdrop is a wonder;
Its shape is round just like a pearl.
There quietly it sits in splendor
Upon some foliage that’s unfurled.
Smooth. Refined. Of perfect texture.
It sits (as morn is slow to pass) .
Such gem has nature sculpted of water,
For it is not of stone nor glass.
Sometimes it appears transparent
In likeness to a fragile tear.
At other times, it can be gray;
Quite subtle is the hue it wears.
Dew droplets descend all around
As nature nurtures plant and ground.
© 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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