Wishing In The Mist
by Lord R.e. Taylor
It doesn’t matter what season
When that moment comes
The one just before the Sun rises
It has got to be that perfect minute
Not too cold and not too hot
Just a soft grey mists surrounding you
That allows your dreams to flow
Maybe, once the mists begin to rise
One or two dreams may come true
But be sure to be quick
Once the Sun rises the mists disappear
Taking your dreams with them
© Poem – IV/III/MMXXIV
LRET
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