When the morning comes this,
I’ll know what love is.
The tide is high, but the water slow.
And the sun up high is beaming low.
The night is full of drinks and drug,
and only when the morning comes is my sober heart rung.
When the morning comes this,
I’ll know you,
like a gentle morning ray
on a leaf clad in dew.
At night, I see no leaf.
But I promise, the morning won’t make me lose belief.
When the morning comes this,
the Sun will shine,
all will be fine.
I weathered the night and the storm of ‘mares
There goes she, my lady fair.
© achillesheelpoetry, 2022
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