Flash Poet

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Grey Light

Oh, working in the Grey light
That doesn’t start till after midnight
When everything is still
And the mind is turbulently peaceful
When pens scratch the paper
And brushes stroke the canvas
Both marking out their desires
There’s nobody to disturb
Just an endless space of time
Whilst you savor your creation
But can’t contain the itch
To let it all out and just be
The moments pass by
And linger in the Grey light
To dance and play
This wondrous night away
In the beautiful, beautiful
Grey Light
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