With the morning sun
Woke my mistress
Her blazing eyes
Too glorious
They were on the Sunday morning
The sun rays appreciated
The beauty beneath their sight
The whirling wind sped down
To let her pass to the next road
All birds singing praise to my mistress
For her skin shone like the amazing polish
Mine
Jova Petr
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 08/18/2019
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Poem topics: beauty, wind, skin, sunday, beneath, sun, morning, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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