Her Sighs like Dew on Morning Grass,

(a pantoum)    
Her sighs like dew on morning grass,  
Her joy, like flowers spilling rain.    
In fingers deft to bring to pass    
Her stutted speech and her regain.    
    
Hey joy, like flowers spilling rain,    
To coat the hands that bring her pr'yers,    
Her stutted speech and her regain,    
Her cup to flow with life aware.    
   
To coat the hands that bring her pr'yers,    
In subtle scents whose rise inspires    
Her cup to flow with life aware    
Of need to fill and quench desires.    
   
In subtle scents whose rise inspires    
The towered gift that sparks her plumb    
Of need to fill and quench desires    
To find in her resolve, succumb    
   
The towered gift that sparks her plumb,    
Her sighs, like dew on morning grass,    
To find in her resolve, succumb    
In fingers deft to bring to pass.