My Idea Of Heaven

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Poetry
I get so sick of these still, quiet days. When the weather is dead, I feel dead, too.

Submitted: May 08, 2016

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Submitted: May 08, 2016



Come wind and rain!

Twist the weather vane!

Make the cock dance to and fro!


Come snowy nights

Down from rocky heights!

Make the school tell the kids “Don’t go!”


Come waves to the cliffs,

Crash wondrous gifts,

All up and down the coast.


Come leaves to the farm

From a bent tree’s arm,

And gather ‘round the old gate post.


Come thunder to the skies,

Come lightning to our eyes,

Come cool and windy showers,


Up over the wall,

The gray garden wall.

Sweep through the delicate flowers.


Come morning mist

To our daily tryst,

Under the apple trees.


Come perfect kiss,

Come sighs, come bliss,

On a lost time’s better reprise.


Let nature be awake!

Let it caper; let it shake!

Bid her sullen sleep adieu!


Awake and aglow,

Beyond the window,

In which I share heaven with you.

© Copyright 2018 Tag Cavello. All rights reserved.

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