Misty Morning


Droplets on the needles green,

In morning gray light with such sheen,

Clear as glass and pure as snow,

Down the needle and off they go,

Splashing softly on my hand,

Giving gently their command,

Walking by the evergreen,

In the misty morning seen.

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About The Lost Poet

I write because I find inspiration. It is my hope that through my writing some connections may be felt. Everything I write comes from my experiences with life, and with the people that I love. I try to remember to see myself in everyone, and everyone in myself.
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