In my earlier days,
as the sleepy first ray
touched the wooden shades
in my small bedroom frame.
She would slide with no pull,
her lips drawn in a curve:
\"Goood morniiing from
the lark to the blackbird\"
That was one other quirk
I could not comprehend
that would bring to me glee
no matter where I\'d stand.
Under echoes of thunder
I\'d be the one visiting,
her square bright room,
with for furniture a
double bed \'n\' a stand.
But the sun exploded
shone its nuclear a core,
and its warm a color:
embraced circular lamps,
dripped along the long drapes,
bounced on the smooth duvet,
poured down the carpet
and swallowed you mellow.
The room has since enlarged
symptoms of a good agein\'
but the color remains
her favorite today.
I still guarantee her sight
gets wrong, blue?, signals
when yellow fills her eyes.
Yet I climb to a nest
when those touches mine.