. Am not alone in lone free nights
Of conviviality reserved as right,
Word bowling all night.
I hold a piece of peace smoking
The aroma of day cooked
Smelling busy day.
I trail enchanting missives
Fun filled staccato calls
And fading wraps.
My head cries for restful
Bathe of sweet words
Handed in worded duvet.
My eyes yearn for sleep
My abode enjoys reaps
Of crested calmness.
Who takes me through
A convivial night fading?
Who fades with me into sleep?
Copyright: Fresh Angle International (www.freshangleng.com)
ISSN 2354 - 4104
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