A Small Round Globe,
Of Water So Pure,
Dropping From The Sky,
Like A Boon To The Dry
A Shape In Itself,
No Frame, Or No Mould,
That-‘s The Creation,
Of Nature To All
As It Drops,
So Cold So Chill,
Turns Into Ice,
Like A Small Round Pebble…
Frozen In Time,
Forever So Still,
That-‘s The Story,
Of A Little Droplet And Me