(g) QKJ 19/ Aubade; His View? (1.19)

Aubade; His View?

Thee I leave
Curled in the duvet
Thy own mash hath I made
For parting sustenance keeping
Winter’s chill From thy body at bay
Off to, nay war, yet drudge of work…
Gaining coin to buy thee seed ~

Through the window
At dawn, thou wouldst
Not know that I too delight
Glancing out at the gardens
And the feeder so carefully hung
That thou religiously fills
For friends of feather ~

Just before I leave
To thou I bow my head
As if a feather brushing
Gently as to not wake thee, I place
Thy lips upon thy brow, a kiss
Looking forward to returning
To thine arms at dusk ~


Write sorta aubade-ish-ly.

My other main blogs that my icon may or may not go to when I leave a comment:
Flash Fiction = Fiction or non…   &   Longer Strands = longer verse


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