Poem: Morning sad mourning

Whiskers among the blades of grass
The dampness of the morning
The dew gathers without
Warning
The day has come to pass
And I am left still mourning

The grey soaked fur begs for food
The coolness of the morning
The sun rises gently
Dawning
The day is now subdued
And I am left still mourning

Purring warmly by a toasting fire
The lateness of the morning
Shadows on the wall
Adorning
The day lies without desire
And I am left still mourning

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Author: seagullnic

Writer, editor, lecturer and part-time musician. Passions in life: my family, Bob Dylan, music of many genres, Brighton and Hove Albion FC, cooking plus good food and wine.

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