Color Of Morning
With eyes the color of morning
A feeling of Winter leaching from her bones
Something brittle broken melting streams
She reached for warmth raining in her dreams
She saw the Summer sun in a field of light
Luxurious golden bouquet of roses lit
Desire a riddle buried deep inside of it
A pale fire was burning like the world about to end
In her heart the Night was mourning
With her eyes the color of morning
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2024-02-14 at 22:17
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