Dew Of The Dawn

DEW OF THE DAWN The art when swooned by the veil Blue yet dazzles by the grace blushing Dawn yet sparkles by the dew as awaits Sun embraces all the blues by the warmth sun when setting at the last round of the day wakes up the impulses from the deluge the rocked up splashes of muttering night paving all secrets by the art of love intoned the quest for ocean’s incessant blue vale of tunes hiding across the pine heaves up mountain’s tip lazing lone pierces into the plumes still by sky blue the waves when rave up across the moon still it is thrills blue by entirety resonant thrumming deeper meandering in conch shell flanging the thrill from the shadow when baffling the mystery be spoken of by the songs of cuckoo night when expends biting its arms by the dreams white lily yet basks amidst the gleams of passion the soul driven away by the redemption heart still melts by the jingling tunes of veil beyond moments yet not befuddled by the arms of runes but by the beams of eternity brimming blue novelty yet unexhausted as intimate infinitesimal