Gone Till December Poem by Aseso Omollo

Gone Till December



That velvet touch – stroking April,

Warm caress of Friday night,

Glazed eyes; staring – not seeing,

Gazing beyond the cold July morn,

Quivering voice of uncertain May,

Beckoning...Calling,

Like Monday dawn – the lips moist,

A promise,

Given in sweet surrender,

And sealed by the lilac kiss,

Gone till December

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