FOUR STANZAS OF GRAY
Night lamps sleep in the street
Tired from overseeing its quiet
Few stirrings of cobalt hours
Fade to dawn's delight of gray
Stay awhile the stormy hips
Of unseen slyphs urge on
So trees dance a wild dance
In gray hours of morning light
Not a coo from resident pigeons
Gray feathers hushed and folded
Song of raindrops fill the air
Let rainstorm voice her discord
Washed gray the empty street
Well that folks be dry indoors
Azure waits above hidden from
Treat of rainy morning's accord.
© gillena cox 2018
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Good Monday Friends. Wishing folks under Storm Florence a speedy pass over and hoping good weather returns quickly.
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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). A Happy Monday to all
Welcome to Monday WRites #172, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites
Blog Hopping today with
#101
Enjoy The Music
Revisit
hushed tones
September musings
choices
