Thursday, 5 November 2015

Sonnet No.27

Miss pretty lights
You glow indeed.
Your eyes, they cure my blights
but bring pain to my Godspeed.
As I wake into your days' night
I see widths of violet bands.
Such streams from your temple's light
speak of grace in your vocal glands.

Miss sparkling hun
I need those incands on
Not to steal your shine, my sun
But to draw the days' dawn.
Hope the happy hormones came back
while the coughs and phlegm flu past.
With every sip of the oriental bark
I await the bliss of your penumbra cast.

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