Beyond Dreams, Dew, and All Things New

The smell of week old grass

And morning dew on the side

Of the hill that I know well

Where I do reside

 

The bubble of feeling

That wells up in the chests

Of people who hear me

Their beams of light white smiles

 

The complicated melodies

With matching difficult harmonies

That bring emotion

I never knew I was feeling

 

The beautiful quiet

With its screaming silence

As I walk in a garden

That, no one but me, knows lives

 

The love of a being

Who, for me, eternally bleeds

Because their love for me calms quaking seas

Crumbles mountains, breaks thick trees

 

The world around me

Most of the time seems gray

But the blessings he doth provide

Turns shadows into beautiful rays.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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