Morning Meadow

the sky, a vessel the sun, an oasis brilliant ambrosia fills the night with peerless, emblazoned light the wind calls my name, tall trees beckon. here in the hollow solitude is good company, i reckon. the crows do (now) of morning mealtime make a game to doubt their undeserved rue their example I shall surely follow laughing here, amidst the glistening dew what waking hours fun doth hasten as stretching flowers paint the basin