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.