Sunday Mornings
There is a silence heard only on Sunday Morn
As raindrops tease suns shine
At the first call of Dawn
As the favoured
Woodpigeon
Parades in sunday best
A reverends collar above a
Blushing pink chest
He calls with such eloquence through wood
And ticking time
As coo's dance with rainclouds
As eye's dance with sleep
As children swoon with sugar candy
As couples eye's
Dance with each....
Other
Worldly steeples
Arch above life's head
As widows and insomniacs dream
Of the one's
They loved best
Theres such solitude and compassion
Pon a family
Sunday Morn
Within the silence and
Damp steeples
In the first call of dawn......
poem by Karen Sinclair
Added by Poetry Lover
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