In dawn's tender embrace, they glisten bright,
Tiny jewels, kissed by the night,
Dewdrops, delicate and pure,
Nature's gift, a beauty to endure.
Upon each leaf, a silvery trace,
A moment's touch, a soft embrace,
Dewdrops linger, a morning's tear,
As if the night had whispered secrets here.
They cling like diamonds, so pristine,
Reflecting the world in a liquid sheen,
In the first light's gentle hue,
Dewdrops sparkle, in colors anew.
Each blade of grass, a treasure's bed,
Where dewdrops rest their tiny heads,
In the quiet of the breaking day,
They silently, gracefully, fade away.
But in their fleeting, transient grace,
Dewdrops leave a lasting trace,
A reminder of nature's artistry,
In their brief and beautiful mystery.
So, as the morning sun ascends,
And dewdrops' reign begins to end,
Remember their delicate, shimmering view,
A testament to nature's morning dew.