Good morning sunshine,
Blooming petals drifting from the porcelain sky,
Blushes of orange and yellow ushering the day,
Livening gleams splashed on scanty cirrus, fair and sly,
As soft gusts play in the meadow beside the way
Bearing the fragrance of roses and laden vines.
Good morning rain clouds,
Churning bellows that rise from the vastness of seas,
With the high winds that twist and howl through the jungle,
Shrouding wools of ash wielding thunder and flashes,
Sifting glistening showers and yawning rumbles ,
Returning life to channels as rivers applaud.
Good morning new day,
Bright and sunny or dark and rainy, who can tell?
All I ask is a chance whatever my lot be,
A chance to rise and grow up where once I didst fell
That rain and sunshine may mean paradise to me.
Whate’re my journey shall be, May I find my way.
_________
Vittorio Topaz
YOU ARE READING
THE BLUE
Poetry...just words, with more meaning than length can tell, just like the heart. We call them poems, but I tag it, 'the blue'...
