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A Sunday Morning in Melbourne

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A Sunday Morning in Melbourne

How wonderful!
To wake up on a Sunday morning
with the sun shining
and no hangover to overcome.
I stole some jam
and licked the sticky guilt
from my fingers and smile.
Discussing politics and road trips
with Dutch kids
whilst they roll spliffs.
How joyous!
To sneak down back lanes
into carparks deserted for today
to share our love
for mother Mary Jane.
She makes for similar minds
Beautiful waves of fleeting connections
We laughed, spoke of possums
To then bask and bathe in the sunshine
I could have showered for days
A few sins washed off by the rays
to start the day regressed, a babe
Don’t get it her way
as she mooches to the markets
suddenly startled, her senses kick started
to the noise of a thousand bargains
smells of future brunches and suppers
Gigantic mushrooms and moleskin slippers.
The heavy smell of leather
tailored against the blooms
She picked Elisenda flowers
in shades of dragon fruit hues
pinks and blues
And sunflowers, because they remind her of you.
How gorgeous!
Pickled veg and homemade chutney
Eggs and silly numbers of shots in her coffees.


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