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Poetic rain.
 
Where the sea meets the sky and the sky meets the night
Where the hours are vermilion, and hidden from sight,
And where images cower in grey shredded shade
So afraid of themselves, and the echoes they made,
There is such a confusion of moon shivering song
That even the stars felt they didnít belong,
And the song scaled the heavens and fell back again
Like a mixture of born again poetic rain.


As the moments grew closer, they seemed to have eyes
That were soft golden tinted with shock and surprise,
As they looked through the window and watched the smoke crawl
Down the oak panelled corridor, then down the hall,
Where it scribbled its name on a cream painted pane
Then continued to writhe like a serpent again,
And it twined round the balustrade, then died away
Like a nightmare that tired of seeking the day.


While the twilight fires burned in their cast metal grate
There seemed no need to wonder or exaggerate
About netherworld skies and their painted surprise
That are sometimes too vivid for mere mortal eyes,
And yet nevertheless there are eyes that see more
Than the blindness of life through a half open door
For the eyes and the mind, and our souls underlined
Make our whisper soft Prayers so intrinsically signed

By 33whitby4654

© 2019 33whitby4654 (All rights reserved)

 

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