The brilliant sun (so lofty)
is calling to me softly
just beyond the fringes of my pane
and where it's golden fingers
have touched me, warmness lingers
which makes all other comfort seem in vain
but this is not permitted
and thus I am committed
to staying in this cube where I remain
my wanderlust apparent
and thin facade transparent
as photons telling me to shed the rein.
Are You Reading Me?
3 comments:
deft word play rch
I enjoyed this.
Very clever.
Thanks Brother O and Mary!
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