Morning blues
For that button nose, her perpetual eyes
Lavender skin, sublime intensities...
I longed for just a day- and it was all jest,
Yet, sometimes jest turn’s to play
And play turns to sport...
What was ‘fun’ becomes the seed of content,
Now she’s my Everest;
The tinder-stick to ignite the ravaging phantoms,
My passion’s dark flames;
And so, I can blindly state,
My morning blues, to afternoon blues,
To night-time attempt’s to woo her forth.
Morning blues.
Comments
hilary west | April 6, 2011 - 07:20
I liked this especially 'the tinder stick to ignite the ravaging phantoms, my passions' dark flames.'
EpheLuwe | April 6, 2011 - 09:55
Thank you, I woke up with this thing biting at me; thought I would write it down :)