A Dank and Foggy Morn
Tis early, on a dank and foggy morn
All the groans of lovers sound inside out
And their bed lights shine on the icy lawn
Even the yapping canines have lost count
I’m wandering these streets, groping on trust
Like the bad old days of whiskey and wine
I’m looking for her last piece of stardust
All I find is some leftover moonshine
Tiredness strikes and I’m dreaming unsound
My mystical girl is out there, but where?
I stumble forward and I hit the ground
Another lost night falls on my armchair
I’m gazing at the stars through timeworn eyes
I’m waiting for her soul to wave goodbye
Beautifully written and stunning use of metaphors, Ivor.
Thank you for your lovely words and for visiting the Coffee House Writers Magazine, Eugenia ππ