
and mine
is a town
that sleeps only
sometimes
sometimes
when it’s late
at night
then
until tomorrow
stifling yawns
at first signs
of light
there is gold
on her streets
but
nothing
is moving
only one car
away
to wodonga
or
perhaps into dawn
into sun
into day
perhaps
it is time
wake
wake
up and shine
my little town
is deep
into snoozing
on sunday morn
even the clock tower
cannot be heard
ticking
not
since nineteen
ninety-nine
so much
for time
so much
for care
turn your face
from the day rise
turn time
back to darkness
then
go on back
to bed
sleepy town
dream on
until the sun warms you
reach then
for coffee
aaahhh
more coffee
aaahhh
ah
~
I can’t wait to visit it someday, Frank. Clearly, you love it
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It’s a nice place, Claire. Seriously crowded with visitors nowaday, pretty much right through the year. Still lovely, though.
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sleepy town
dream on
until the sun warms you
What a welcoming town you describe!
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Thank you, Janet. It’s a pretty little town.
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Lovely poem
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