The very dawn breeze rustling the waving leaves;
Shining bright amid the morning sun mild rays,
The happy butterfly pure as white with tints of black
Now wings across the violet flowers beauty-struck.
The content morning suns running around childishly;
Some playing innocent rough-and-tumble in the way,
Others swinging in turns energetically on the swings
Others climbing like monkeys the cornering tree joyous.'
The few twittering sparrows hesitant to leave;
Still resting calmly upon the branches with ease
Bless sight with hueful colours of Christmas joy
Yet impelled by a mystic force to migrate they still journey.
The innocent walk upon the morning
Telepathies incantations soaring.
