I write - XIV

The pitter patter of tiny feet
The melody of gurgles and coos
The shining stars in limpid pools
The little hands that reach out to you

The bursting of a flower bud
The droplets of rain quenching mother earth
The new leaf weighed down by dew
The first ray of the sun ending the night

Aah, forget the misery
There's so much beauty that makes me

Write.