poetry & things

When morning comes

When after night has flown, starry blue

to other lands, until tomorrow

when just before the light of dawn

in streams of gold upon the lawn

the world still violet hued, pinkish blue

soon bursts on fire, a blaze of red

silence is the wind upon the clouds

silence of colors, the sky speaks aloud

rearranging the mind, the heart like petals

of a million flowers all abloom

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