May Day
She is coming soon to see you but it may not be todayShe is waiting for a perfect moon to paint the windows gray
Just like her eyes you see an ancient tune, looks the other way,
In the nimbus of her cumulus dreams an ocher colored sun such light
Like a promise to be perilous streams a river all day into night
Where poems forming daisy chains link in thoughts no one may say
She is coming soon to see you but it may not be today . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2019-04-02 at 22:39
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