When wake of day the sunlit rays cause a stir

we might know the beauty of another may.

When soul do cross path, we might register

a new sort of peace, a kindly takeaway

~

We do welcome the light of day with hope

a happiness may speak volumes so near

to the heart of that which creates our slope

where descend or rise we might commandeer.

~

while soft the fever of the mourning leaves

the mind to gently wander near to bask

in gentle storms, without wallow she grieves

that very night where he may leave his mask

~

Sweet the eyes of a waking day might release

Chance pheromone albeit, a lasting peace.