The dawn rolls into the lull of a noon
but all the hours of the day always seem,
similar like an endless afternoon
for the distance of the sun turns it so,
my heart forever pining for the warmth
and harmony that radiate from her smile!


Perhaps deep inside the wait has begun,
through the weight of social chains and demands,
for the spring, her sweet colors, lush and green,
the winter has come, how far can spring be!


This is winter, I know it should be cold
but her face makes it warm, does she know?
If she can hear let her have these from me,
Send her warmth my way, I’m praying but, will she?






4 thoughts on “The Wait At Noon

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