Last Night`s Letter

The immaculate impulse when admired by the glimpses of the warmth the sun in its scarlet red wakes the delight from its last night when overwhelmed by the thrills the novels of last night as I remember yet i looked through the attic window waiting the postman to deliver my letter the postman when slowly enters the gate holding all the radiant beams of sweet words when cohered within by the complete embrace the envelope as if of the parchment bag in virtual colors yet with baited breath as I opened the door the golden voices seemingly resounding as if being engulfed by the pigeon cage within the painted paper made in- the art of love yet I do swear by the truth when silhouetted the jingling tunes of goldmorh plant across its verses even when untold to the bailey whispers me and my sportive silence beneath thoroughly latching on to the last dream