Every winter morning
There is a dew on hide of plants and flowers
And sun rises early
So that it rays could touch the dew
And even plants gracefully dance
As dew landed on its surface
Flowers know when to bloom
Just to welcome dew
Dews are small drops of water
Which are tears shed by nature
Dew come sliently
And goes sliently
Just like a bird
But its impact remains for long...
©bajajjag
J