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Daylight Hours

O, that daylight could command when I sit with writing pen in hand That verse could flood my tablet and let morning become my habit Then like others I would at last be, muse's heartbeat set live and free No sad hoyden, no mysterious frump who quivers in darkness like a lump Prisms of sun would dance with glee celebrating a reborn joy inside of me No more looks askance at who I am Proud, preening lioness instead of lamb Alas, as words grace paper like a crown my senses feel the sun slithering down A little light within me has begun to glow as blossoms the sweetest time I will know O, glory ebon hours, bring the moon to rise delight me with the satin dark of the skies

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 1/8/2019 9:24:00 PM
This is a gorgeous write, and I adore this part, Sherry: "Prisms of sun would dance with glee celebrating a reborn joy inside of me No more looks askance at who I am Proud, preening lioness instead of lamb". This could be a poem by itself; it is terrific and could stand alone.
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