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The Nocturnal Niche

Feet tired of walking many miles, hot blister of grueling day one on other painfully piles, look toward the falling night’s way. Satin touch of embracing air, seeping in through the velvet pores of the cool flaps of loving pair, waits every night for me, allures. Nocturnal niche for tortured feet puts to rest the toiling journey, mild succor comes as timely treat, I forget day-long trudge thorny. They walk me to my cradle old, I sail the dreams on hues of blues, in peace sleeps the day’s pain untold in my faithful pair of night shoes.
May 20, 2019 The poem is set in iambic tetrameter Syllable count checked on howmanysyllables.com

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 5/20/2019 1:32:00 AM
It is peculiar how we do not realize how truly weary we are until we take off our day shoes and take that sigh to signal the start of slumber, Subimal. Nice one.
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