At 4 in the morning
At 4 in the morning:
Sleep waved me a bidding good bye
Leaving trails of sweetness that lie.
Glimpses of treasure that stocks might price
Ilusion and grace are memories’ dice.
Masses and escorts in waiting I see
Of a greater something that as well might be
A star maybe, I knew, not I,
And waited for seconds and minutes to fly.
When presently mids’t heads, I chanced upon
A face so calm with a look forlorn
Oh no! I hear me think aloud,
While He kepts gazing in a haze that shroud.
The smiling eyes that His color brought
Was the very face which I’d often sought.
He walked in the direct I was, I guess
Opposite Him, straight, face- to- face.
Lost I looked, when the colour bright
Caught me unawares in His pleasant light.
I moved abrisk in the direction aside
That has been learnt in text and write.
When I still, looking behind-
Caught Him bowing a matter of sign
I wondered He did and did so why
Yet left Him alone when a matter’s try
Could’ve made me listen to His voice
Sleep waved me a bidding good bye
Leaving trails of sweetness that lie.
Glimpses of treasure that stocks might price
Ilusion and grace are memories’ dice.
Masses and escorts in waiting I see
Of a greater something that as well might be
A star maybe, I knew, not I,
And waited for seconds and minutes to fly.
When presently mids’t heads, I chanced upon
A face so calm with a look forlorn
Oh no! I hear me think aloud,
While He kepts gazing in a haze that shroud.
The smiling eyes that His color brought
Was the very face which I’d often sought.
He walked in the direct I was, I guess
Opposite Him, straight, face- to- face.
Lost I looked, when the colour bright
Caught me unawares in His pleasant light.
I moved abrisk in the direction aside
That has been learnt in text and write.
When I still, looking behind-
Caught Him bowing a matter of sign
I wondered He did and did so why
Yet left Him alone when a matter’s try
Could’ve made me listen to His voice
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