A morn with You, fresh, bathed,

And the dawn came whence bathed
You met me, at an opening of river like Lethe,
As night often comes to greet the morn,
As rivers come to meet the ocean,
You the ocean met me,
This bathed, fresh, blooming morn,
And the streets looking so cool and wet,
They seemed tuned to your strait
For they took me to You straight...

And the dawn came when bathed
You met me, at an opening of a river like Lethe,
As Tunes come often to meet the strings
As songs to me throat only You as joy bring,
O you, my festive sky of bird flying a morn,
When came bathed, fresh, by moist born,
The city looked so pleasant, so soulful, ascended,
For the city took me to your eyes with festivity painted.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Like sleepy , a lullaby...

The warm wintry sun and we