Float
Heaven sheds its early morning beams, vivid hues alight on batted eyelids,
seven wonders lure the idle senses
to an open blissful transit.
Eternal haunt, a blinding spell forever cast,
Where bewitching hours seem like endless daze we hear!
NB Daze is a pun on days.
We hear is a homophone indicator for this from cryptic crossword puzzles to add mystery.
Float as in slow moving state of suspension of this poem about bliss.
Comments
I really love your poems,
Regina
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Thank you, Regina for reading
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Thank you, Regina for reading
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Thank you, Regina for reading
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