By JH Sayyar
When morn drops kiss the rose’s red face,
And dew, like pearls, upon her petals lie,
The garden wakes to greet her gentle grace,
Beneath the hush of gold that floods the sky.
The breeze stands still, in awe of such a sight,
As if the world has paused to catch its breath,
While beams stretch with slow and tender light,
To warm the bloom and chase the chill of death
Each petal drinks the dawn’s soft, honeyed hue,
And sways with joy beneath the robin’s tune,
As if it knows that love does begin anew,
Born every day with rise of the sun and moon
O fleeting kiss! So brief, yet deep it stays
A whisper sweet that lights the flower's days
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