Soft, sweet, partial to morning reveries,
Drift away in rain made rivulets.Window clung,
Your silvery labyrinth
Where solely the sunlit scintillates.What do you see
When you’re on your knees;
Which eye traced path does radiate?I envision you queen of birds and bees;
A reign to create or retaliate.Torn between a
Heart’s whimpering symphonies,
And that song of ire the mind does dictate.Yet soft, sweet, partial to morning reveries,
Perhaps you’ll sing love’s song
Again some day.—
11-10-2019, M.A. Tempels ©