I awaken this morning
The wind was a bit crisp
I had nothing to do
So I snuggle under my
Warm blanket and began
To get an extra nod..
It felt as if the wind had
Extra fingers the way he
Strummed through my
Hair..
He sang my song with
Style..
This perfect stranger of
Whom I never meet..
But he knew my life as if he
Was,
Reading me from a book..
It made stand and take notice
This perfect stranger knew
Me so well,
Leaving me flushed, wanting
Him to finish..
And move on his way...
The wind was a bit crisp..
As I snuggle under my warm
Blanket...
To get an extra nod...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem