Morning Mystery

Forever sleeping by an empty bed.
Living on a lonely honeymoon,
Another lonely night among the dead,
Waiting at the final hour of noon.

Places where the children never weep,
Until the early morning getaway,
I stay awake and dream of fast asleep,
Another day without a matinee.

A day an early morning lady woke.
Later on an hour of tape delay,
The children gather as they wake.
Sing a song of love and passion play.

Vanished on an endless stormy night.
I hear the sound of murder mystery,
Surrounded by a stranger overnight,
On a journey through the days of eerie.

Forget about another tape delay.
An hour of silence like a holy ghost,
Sigh and hear the sound of a successful day,
Write a story on the evening post.

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Poem written by me
Image from Pixabay