I was a world famous fashion designer, and quite enraptured with the new,
Like first caress of pink, peach dawn light, smiling at the full moon's taboo.

I adored laboring with colors I loved, in my fashions, often bold and daring,
Like shocking, darkly purple blooms, a modish hue, fresh nature is wearing.

My creations graced magazines like Vogue, as sky's grace is seen in a sea,
As green, frothy waves of darling daring, journey away to another country.

Fabulousness lived in forest green fields, with vibrancy flowers of forever;
And friends visited under faded rose skies, in fumes of lost, gold treasure.

Fevered, flambe skies flaunted beauty, when footloose family came, finally,
To reminisce fond, fleeing gilt days, fast trickling sands of fandango finery.

I lived in the house of smoky, morning mist, in an abundant range of hues;
Where dawn awaked a world of colors, as its haze initially carried the news.

Silky flowers swayed in September breezes, as birds sang summer slogans,
On my street of swift, rampant seasons, like sangria, amassed cloud omens.

Needed neighbors and I shared morning coffee, at the noon of nightingales,
On novel weekends nobody worked, and opening blooms told exciting tales!

Scents of summer heightened senses, abetted by goddess Flora, so fruitful;
And chartreuse tones were nature sunlit, after a beige dawn, quite neutral.

Violet birds visited our vine-shaded homes, lending wild music under moon;
And hues of adonis blue abandon, gave butterfly glamour to the afternoons.

I rose to greet the sunrise one pink morn, but instead greeted endless dew;
Like jewels of dawn, perfect pearls glowed, a charmed world, suddenly new!

I began walking to observe that magic, on flower and bush, grass and tree,
Exploring unpublished Dew Diaries, and eager travels from land, air and sea.

A product of excitable water vapor, and its response to variable temperature,
I saw the world in each gleaming dewdrop, realizing their wandering culture.

Yesterday in silver blue, furious ocean, and in varicolored rainbow last week,
From backyard emerald grass to bathroom mirror, to toad frogs in the creek!

Matter is never created nor destroyed, hence the world is always changing,
As fireworks enhance sunset colors, or like glee garden spring is repainting.

The Dew Diaries will never be finished, and belong to that magic of morning,
Arriving daily from any and everywhere, like a sweet kiss, without a warning!