Rise to me, rise with me, rise with the dawn,

enter the coldness of the white bright light

in the red warmth of my purple haze of being

close, a neighbour, a house attached to you

two together conjoined as a single erection

of thick red with a varying hue, orange and blue.

Come to me, come with me, come in the dawn,

reach into me into the darkness of my porch,

pull on any lever, push on any button you find till

I appear near you, in you, feeling the sanctity of

your sanctuary in a sanguine levity as curled leaves

on a garden bed of daisies, and carnations mauve.

Breathe to me, breathe with me the ambrosia dawn,

draw in the scent of our breakfast feast and let me

taste sweet succour as I share a drink in your cup.

Let the minutes and hours wander hill and valley

as I wander wondrously with you in our cocoon.

Let the sun drift in its blue heaven bringing colour

to our gorgeous garden of red, of pink, of green.



Rochester, 2016


Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15 or

at https://www.facebook.com/Malek-Montag-Author;


Image from: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/88/dc/d0/88dcd0f7ac23b95af0f1d3890eaf5c80.jpg


About malekmontag

I am a writer and a wage-slave, and proud father of George Giraffe. I live in the UK, but I exist everywhere. My first stories were published this year (2016) in Short Stories and Tall Tales (Atla Publishing). Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15. My Work is also available on Niume.com.
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