I Love the Scottish Nights
I love the Scottish nights
Where the cold nuzzles
face and soul
Not silence in its deadest form
But in murmuring demise
An an an echoed lovers small talk
A revving engine rainbows overhead
An breath hangs in cold cut
A mist mirror that uncovers
ethereal truth
Soft the night
blur the light
I love the Scottish nights
Soft the nights
blur the lights
I love the Scottish night
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2019
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