Posted in Poem

A Sanguine Hue


A Sanguine Hue

The gargling truck trolls through;

On a morning filled with dew.

Blinded birds, braving to woo;

Limped chirps, yet, deafening as they flew.

Cauldrons of coffee on the brew;

Sunrises – to make them feel anew.

Soggy blades of grass – grand as they grew;

Cackling geese are fresh but few.

A wandering mind steadies to stay true;

As a pretentious world gets ready to imbrue,

The Innocence of dawn, it has to eschew.

Another span, Another strut – A Sanguine Hue.

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Author:

Besides fantasizing about being a Peter Gibbons at least for a couple of days at my work, I think I have a long way to go to realize some of the other fantasies. But like any ambitious man out there, I will get there! Note: All views expressed in this blog are mine alone and have got nothing to do with my company Cogent IBS, Inc., its employees or any of its affiliates.

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