A Gentle Praise Poem by Richard D Remler

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Morning reached her gentle hand
And touched the breaking day,
Her smile shined across the land
And chased each cloud away.

The bluebird brought a song of joy,
That drifted through the early breeze,
And was at once joined by the meadowlark,
Who sang their praises in the tree's.

The crocus and the daffodil
Opened wide into the sky,
And I could almost hear the gentle praise
They tossed in every sigh.

The hummingbird, for a moments breath,
Stopped feeding nectars dew,
And flittered high as he could try,
So his praise could be heard too.

The waters of this summer lake
Ebbed their songs onto the shore,
And exalted, praised, and glorified
The One for whom they were there for.

And every blade of grass reached out
Into nature's perfect shrine,
Showering their songs of adoration
Into the morning's emerald shine.



Copyright © MMXI Richard D. Remler