Sunday Mornings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Sunday, a day described to relax. Well, of all those week days Sunday is always awaited. Look out, in the poem, Sunday Morning, what Zeevi feels on one such morning.

Submitted: July 14, 2014

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Submitted: July 14, 2014

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Snooze! Snooze! She'd alarmed After all she'd set last night alarm Sunrays enter into the room Through the ways from curtains' pore Warm start had the day Ah! She felt lazy this day Weekdays stress relieved on weekend Oh! She'd planned an active morning hours And this snooze made her go doze Hugged herself, Looked out Eyes half opened Cold yet sun was out Something made her smiled Genuine like an elf On her bed, Energy lost, Thoughts tinkled, Made her better This day was sooner so greater Didn't want this morning end soon Yet she woke later in her study room Her bed was on huge glass window side She moved the curtains to see the wide What a sight it was, Sudden change grace it was Warm sun hiding behind silvery grey clouds She'd had the best rain, vouch In those seconds, Sky gentle down Droplets touching own She could feel cool This nature made her zoned No account she had of time Well,of course travelling the whine Of something unknown. She missed the part She missed being called Zeevi She had moved out of her home. Grown, now she earned Missed what she learned. Her young days Danced in rain Now lost in some pain.


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