Dew of Dawn

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Mildewed starry mornings

of ashen laden dirt.

Glistening silver pavements,

in the ever-crusting rust.

Moistened tips of gloominess,

in the pleasant slumber sung.

A sleepless soul in solitude,

seeking refuge from the sun.

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Summer Morning

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Glistening morning

eerie summer blooms rising high

farewell to the gloom

This post is a response to the miniature writing challenge on: Light

Twinkle

This post is a response to a daily prompt here

PS. This daily prompt was made for this blog.

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Blissful summer nights,

under the calms of the aging moon,

lie poets filling words with lies

gazing further than the ignorant fool.

The east end sparkles,

lit up with the passion of delight.

The fire burns its brightest,

causing twinkles in the minor eyes.

Inspirations are ready to ignite,

when Twinkies talk to the morning twilight.

Morning Bloom

I wrote this one about a week ago. This poem is about a journey through the course of a single day how destinies can be created changed and evolved in a matter of hours. (featured image: Morning by AlectorFencer)

 

Morning Bloom

The mornings bloom

in summer’s white.

The heat that burns,

to my delight.

Time is nye,

for new ideas to take flight.

So guide this hungry creature

to the light

and send me off

into the night.