At first light, I wake up to a new day
ready to get up with the dew, day.
On TV, the news misconstrues, day
weeding out the fake news that’s untrue, day.
Stymied, I could use a breakthrough day
something to help me make do, day.
I feel like I’m stuck in a queue, day
the feeling is like deja vu, day.
Feeling down, you’re the one I turn to, day
you tell me you’re coming to woo, day.
I impatiently wait to see you, day
with you, it won’t be a blue day.
The calendar tells me it’s Tuesday
he’s here, so I bid you adieu, day.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2018
We are trying a ghazal today at dVerse~Poets Pub. A new form for me.