Diane Saenz//WPB//


The smiling flower just like every morning, the sun rises on her face, rosy pink lips, shining like delicate silk lace. And tired eyes moving swiftly to birds awakening the trees, her eyes still reflect the skies, as the clouds quickly flee. The early bird gets the worm, but she rather sleep one more hour, But instead she wakes up blossoming, like a smiling flower.