Yesternight’s thunderstorm,
scattered petals all over
In the backyard.
It is my custom
to pluck another flower
every-morning.
Raindrops are gently
kissing my head
Whilst it drizzles
down the rocks.
The dew splashes all over
my face
as I pick a rose,
I get pricked by a thorn.
I am overwhelmed with joy
by the sight of pretty doves
chirruping on the lawn.
At the Break Of Dawn.
Ishaque Nsubuga.
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