And the grey cloud-quilt

Shelters my melancholic soul,

Enveloping it

In sanguine shades of memory,

As daylight falters

And begins its dwindling dance

Of dreamy wonder,

Heralding hopes

At the cast of first light awakenings;

But the streetlamps,

Blooming beacons

Of night-watch sentinels,

Guide my searching thoughts

Along streets and avenues,

Musing mellifluous wonders,

At all the things I mean to say,

When day breaks once more.

 

7 August 2017

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