Monday, February 15, 2016

Monday WRites 48

image from google dot com

Canopy of morning, the stars rest now
In a cloud tinted pink, the marquee states morning
Feathered heralds from every bough,
Have a say in democratic parlance, to shape the day
Courage paints the sun rays radiant, the stars rest now
Once i stood, handbag shouldered, with lunch brown bagged
To the echo of honking horns streaming somehow
Issues of bread and butter salt, garlic and theater
Back then everyone was going through the door to allow
Empty houses to sleep, dream, and wait the din of returning
Morning, i while away in poesy, as the stars rest now
MORNING © gillena cox 2016

You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #48, ❧✿❧ Whats your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites
Today's poem is a Fold.



Will link this to this week's open mic at
The Tuesday Platform
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads