The last bit of moonlight
left hanging lightly
on the tops of the trees
was blown away
by dawn's early breath.

The palest streaks of light
peeking over the clouds,
sparkled brightly
on the dew shrouded
carpet of grass,

and brought a touch
of palest morning light
to the dark world
where the little people live,
under the rose bush.

Scarlett Treat

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/little-people-2/