THE MORNING HUG

THE MORNING HUG
The night it seems pitch dark;
Except a thin lining of moon mark.
The ground is warp with mist and fog;
Far somewhere can be heard the howling dog.
The wind was playing hide and seek;
Whistling through the long and messy bamboo’s whisk.
The shadows were seems mysteriously evil;
Tur tur tur beetles sounds no less than devil.
Believe it or not you have to trust;
The only shelter was the marooned rusty hut.
Located in the center of jungle with door shut;
All you can find on it is the thick layers of dust.
From thin air a beautiful angle appears;
Wearing a pretty white gown looks amazingly fair.
The jungle dance as birds chirrup in joy;
As if the queen of queens is on its convoy.
She steps on the stair and the candle glow;
Everything submerges in golden dust as harmony flow.
The blue eye prince came out of the dewpond;
Soon their eyes bind them into a hypnotic bond.
Lily of joy and rose of love blossom up;
The hut too turns into a castle sup.
Prince of aqua picks up the angel of pearl;
Her cheeks turn pink half covered with curl.
Suddenly the beautiful moment freeze;
Fragrance from the east came with a gentle breeze.
But the night seems small for the soul in love;
As there bodies were bend in passionate curve.
They were still in the lust, kiss and lean;
Sunrise and the morning rays invade the scene.
Before they vanish the ultimate sentiment lent;
THE MORNING HUG essence all it meant.
The color of the prose darken as the night progress.
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