Sunday, 27 September 2015

Metaphors in the morning

A cup of tea at the crack of dawn.
A crack so loud, it wakes them all.
A miserable dove on a quest to nest.
A holy cow on a sabbatical.
Paisley clouds on a solar mission
play with the spots on idiot’s face.
Clinging to the awning, swinging in the breeze
rusty cobwebs mourn the old spider
Light and shade, bloom and rot, picture and prose,
it all comes and goes.

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