Dawn’s soft light
Moves across the room,
Melting away the night’s shadows
On her sleeping face.
The beams cascade
Their cleansing warmth
Upon her scented skin,
Rejuvenating the senses beneath.
One slow, steady intake
Of precious air
And then exhale.
As the wind blows gently
Through the half-open window,
Playing melodies with her free hair,
Her placid form shifts,
A slight movement to the right.
Her lips part first
Before she opens her eyes
To the beginning of a new day,
And she whispers,
“Good morning.”
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