Scarlet curtains,
my window dons,
a space between the pair,
to let morning crawl, in;
In to my bed,
on to my eyes,
in through my window,
in a scarlet disguise;
Caressing my cheek,
as the dawn moves on,
warm and soft,
like feathers my wings adorn;
“Morning my love.”
She whisper’s in my ear,
to embrace her I rise,
in the dead of the night.
Its dark still,
as cold as time;
so I sort myself out,
and wait for my sunshine.
She’s still gonna be here;
Soft and warm, on wings of a quail
to lift this darkness,
this vantablack veil.
And what of her whisper?
dare I ask;
but a message sent ahead,
to make me smile, just a little sooner-
So it may last,
just a while longer.
Morning love.
By: Viraj Belgaonkar