The View

soft-silver-clouds

The grey clouds colonizes the blue clear sky

And obscures the first morning rays

A thought has possessed my mind

And I don’t know the words to use

But, you will hear my muse

A sing that you can not defuse

the soft drops of rain glides on my  window room

And I light a cigarette

 In observing this godly scene

I lost my look of glare

And enchanted by the natural flair

I prolonged my stare …

Very soon drops shifts into little streams of water

And run down the gutter heading all to the sea.

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