The misty morning,
The sea-salt air,
The flowers blooming,
Without a care.
A fresh beginning,
The day starts new.
Our spirits filling
With purest dew.
The freshness waning
As day grows old.
With faith sustaining,
We must be bold.
When sadness threatens,
When fear seems strong,
The Spirit will come
With fresh’ning song.
clarakatalin 
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