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How I Long For Morning ©

Gordon Fjaelberg
Bridgend, Wales
1980

How I long for morning
Through dark and stilted nights,
When tiredness evades me
Like a leper-man.
So, down the stairs for coffee,
Whilst silently communing
With a mazda bulb.
Make yourself a sandwich,
Dunk a ginger-nut;
What good's a passing hour
But to grab?

How I long for morning,
My moods are brighter then
With no finger-tips of grey
To hide their moments.
Introspective monochrome,
Your subtlety's beguiling
As a Gorgon-head.
Toothly-sick with Mars bars
And eye-lid weary,
I drag my lumbrous foot-steps
Back to bed.


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