An November Morning

Standard

An orphaned moon
lingers as an un-wiped tear
on bland brim of ughten,
as night blends into nothing~
scattering night-jasmines
on the bosom of sleeping earth.

azaleas, carnations n’ orchids,
blossom is fragrant celestial bowers
on sapphire clarities,
a perplexed sun awakens
with aureate yawn pulling
flimsy curtains of candyfloss clouds.

morning breeze sprinkles
dewdrops on sleepyhead roses~
a mother getting her children
out of bed and streaming dreams.

dewy grass tickles freshness
on her nude soles,
as she basks in warm treacle sunshine
photons are sequined on
tangled hair like wayward thoughts
to spin halos in early light.

tea leaves bleed
burnished fluidities in water,
and mixed with lemon juice
it leaves a citrus kiss emblazoned
on her thirsty lips,
as she savors untasted flavors
of a naive morn,
crisp as a golden croissant.

Advertisements