Morning blues- short lament.

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.