Early morning


It was in the early morning, blackbird song and
long wet grass, shuffling through making trails in dew
In the early mornings of my life.
Something of magic in the sun slanting
through wet dripping branches,
pearls of water drops in spidery webs enchaining
blade to blade in the long wet grass.

It was in the early morning rising from warm sheets
when hearing that cuckoo summons from
far distant woods, calling , welcoming me forth
into the dewy day, doors unbolted, stepping from within
dark walls, shadowed kitchens, cold and stony floor.
Stepping forth and catching at my heart.
They were.
Sun’s rays, dewy grass, pearls of water drops.

She cuckoos & swags across the heart
for stealing the breath off its beat,
I enjoy listening to her voices
whispering from somewhere outta Georgia street

William Shakespeare did speak,
"In delay there lies no plenty,----
Then come kiss me, sweety-n-twenty"
So I do write,
"Her devotional love makes the oceans restive,---
Even a breath of her ice crystals muse makes my heart festive"

And, winds blow
Her love arrives to my way,
Waves starting to flow
in one-direction where there's no sun-ray

With some caramel hues of her nocturnal love,
I inhale her throughout the night
Melancholy clouds burst out, though No Mistreat,
The echoes of rain start whispering around me,
&, along such a mist, she cuckoos & swags across the heart with naked feet.