“Morning Rhapsody”

She listens quietly, contemplating the sounds;
the whirling of the fan, spinning plastic blades,
air conditions forceful air, coolness spewed in space.

Minus of the birds song, larks chirping can’t be found;
percales silent rustle, a muteness of her sheets,
eyes blinking in the dark, blind lash and lid meet.

There’s thunder in the matter, roaring brain pounds;
hear conversations ethereal, ringing air in her ears,
silent fading darkness, nights quiet disappears.

Slowly daylight dances, beams frolic in the dust;
rhythmic shadow dancers, marionettes in space,
pirouettes fill the room, spinning round the place.

Darting lazy drifters, exploding morning crust;
ride the stale cool air, blown helpless by the fan,
persona participation, she lends a helping hand.

Creeping night time stealers, sneak the dark from us;
sunlight washes windows, morning drenched panes,
kiss the night stealers, darkness greets the day.


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Jean M. Cogdell
    Jul 22, 2014 @ 19:17:21

    I so admire writers of poetry, with such a gift of rhythm.



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