Tuesday, 29 May 2018

70

then a sea breeze lays
its bated teenage breath,
upon the awning 
of the morning rays;
and to those yearning days,
so bleared in joy,
that sea of tears;
so minded in the eyes
that look down the ways, 
to the golden days,
beckoning even now,
and even now, 
so irresistible.

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