adventures in dysthymia

Sunday, May 01, 2005


The sun must rise
As daughter sleeps in.
She shuts her eyes;
The nays shall win.

All night long
For things that were,
The mix is wrong;
Sleeper, stir!

The sun will rise
But the girl sleeps on;
Abed she lies
about the dawn.

Stephen Brooke ©2005

nothing more than a little playing with words

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