The sun spills its gold
like a freshly cut mango
Its juices I behold
at my window
I let the breeze in
to feed my dreams
My breakfast sings
with honey and cream
My breath is shallow
as I walk to the door
Hoping it’s someone
that’s warm like the sun
A wind-swept mind
A shaft of ore-filled mine
Parsley, sage and thyme
in my little rhyme
Hi, I am Monte Cyril Rodrigues and live in Melbourne, Australia. I am a retired journalist. I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I've had voices and visions all my life. I think it is a spiritual experience, my doctors think otherwise. I am a deeply spiritual person and keep having experiences with otherworldly realms. View more posts
montes-musings.blog
Such a sweet little rhyme . Really full of freshness and innocence
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Loved it
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