3am

.

3am, rose like a mountain

Pure blue

Gloaming,

The Tropical breezes, the cool nights

Lapping, the kissing waves

Of memories.

Will my 

Soul – shorn of flesh – know its way,

Over oceans,

Rivers,

Thorn and 

burr-filled

Meadows,

To my

Birthright,

my mothers’

Home.

Published by Tonyyy

twitter.com/sirmorose tumblr.com/sirmorose instagram.com/sir.morose

Thank you :-)

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