Morning Sky
The morning sky
was one of those
cold January mornings
with redness
up there
amongst
the off white clouds
and she said
I dreamt of you last night
And you came into my room
and into my warm bed
and even my sister
didn't know
you were there
and you said
I dreamt
of Marilyn Monroe
and entered
into her room
and tried to get
into her bed
but I didn’t want
to disturb her sleep
so just sat
and watched her
like studying some
fine work of art
then I woke up
to a cold morning
and she said
you were better off
in my dream
where we kissed
and cuddled
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poem by Terry Collett
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