On a night like today, followed by
the day, one that was subliminally blessed
to be, blissed and calm, mellow
with a tinge of contentment and missing irony;
the night seems shorter, the shadows lighter,
promises are the only ones hiding under the bed,
monsterous only in the future they hold,
you hear a Sinatra tune as you welcome sleep.
3 comments:
mama said you'd have days like this one. fantastic poem, evokes all things dreamy and contented.
thanks :)
"Here we all work 'long the Mississippi,
Here we all work while the white folk play"
@ chang'e
aww, thanks!
@ byker7
I know what you meant but that sooo didn't sound right/nice!!
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