Gloomy days dip their brushes into palettes of mixed greys,
Murky mists, ominous, rousing slow from preternatural slumber,
Yet each relax back into deepest of sleeps
At the simplest and most miniscule thought of her…
She
04 Friday Dec 2020
Posted Poetry
in
And it’s nearly midnight….and I’m here reading these beautiful lines from a gifted mind…
You are so very kind with me. Thank you…
I’ve often wondered what it would be like in your midnights.