Another Fresh Day

The break of the dawn, the morning light

Pushing aside the dark night's shroud
Flaring crimson slowly blushes the sky
Fading away its soft blue hue.
The night starts losing its colour from the orange flush
With the break of another fresh day.
As I jog across, I love to see the dew drops from near
Settled on the blades of crisp green grass
Tiny glassy crystals of water they are
Imprisoned in each of which is a sun.