Jaymemozart

In the quiet corners of the lake
A lily sways gently, a silent ballerina,
Her dress of purest white unfurls in the morning sun.
She seeks no applause,
Her performance is for the dew-kissed dawn,
Her beauty, her truth, her dance,
Her charm lies in her simplicity,
Her fascination in her innocence.
Each petal, a verse in nature's poetry,
Each flower, a sonnet sung to the symphony of life,
Bathed in the soft glow of dawn,
Lily awakens, her petals stretch out -
the first masterpiece of the day.
authors unknown