Saturday 7 May 2016

Awaken me
to the wake you are
And describe the word it is
Tell me what it would be
As you tell me you cannot
I am unable to express either
Is that what synchronous is
Like blank pages
either side of a book
Yet it rattles in the breeze
Like a galloping horse
Only gentler and prettier
Yet with curls
Dark ones, like I had
Beautiful, spell binding
You

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