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One cold morning and me

This morning So cold , I feel I don't want a wash O gush! from my oxblood painted balcony I stood and heard three red cocks trumpeting like she come with a luggage of ice? Yeeh! I could fill my skin fuming cold as my palm's degrees lower i guess to 20°c like rickety, bicycle I creak screeching I will wait, put the sunlit my brownie icy skin to bath it golden in noon flakes, when ice is gone to roast In the kitchen, felt the smiles of my pot, but it caresses my palms frozen It slept so frozen wake, my metals seem burning in It cold lit. waded downstairs, blaze my retinas the almond tree, seated to the eastern earth blooming ray flashes of greens, as the rains let down from the heavens. prodigally it bathed the earth. between the greens swam a brownie nightingale flapping its fluffy wings as the wet tasted of her dry skin she complained and fought so hard to flap away it icy fangs, cos in between sat her lonely Nest, Sheltering her nestlings to frozen by the morning icy fist. I prayed she feeds On other mornings for survival, from this icy baked day, as I watched the sky runs swiftly in the pace of a brownie spotted Deer scurry leaving this frozen morning, the dank street, her nestlings and me Behind.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 7/17/2020 3:47:00 PM
This is just mesmerizing, Gideon!:-) You're a fabulous poet with a very distinctive and recognizable style!
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Idudje Avatar
Gideon Idudje
Date: 7/18/2020 6:06:00 AM
Thanks a lot Edward God bless