Spring Mornings

Bridge of ruby yawns and stretches,
waking pool of cerulean blue,
who gently strokes the emerald grass,
soaking in the yellow sun.

Lillies of the purest orange
breathe upon the purple rose,
rustles wood of evening black,
tickling the crystal wind.

Crystal bustles browning leaves,
drinking in clear morning dew,
dripping onto house of brick,
waking tan and tired me.