Blue Daze
True as the moon turns
a zephyr blue daze,
seeks the end of
a quandary of weaving,
A zephyr blue daze
and a crescent of sky,
a quandary of weaving,
sharp light in my eye.
And a crescent of sky
is a reason to smile;
sharp light in my eye
while singing a tune
is a reason to smile,
a tangle of jangles
while singing a tune,
glowing with light.
A tangle of jangles
can grow with desire,
glowing with light.
The early Spring love
can flow with desire,
the reason to keep
the early Spring love.
The touch of my hand
poem by Rick Stokes
Added by Poetry Lover
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