Phonograph

As the skies keep changing
its shades of blue to all
sorts of silvery gray hues…
I had to lay my heavy head

to let go of the blues.

As serenity gracefully wafts
all over me, your words,
how it keeps visiting
my subconscious mind…

“I promise to be yours,
if you promise to be mine.”

As I slowly drift off
to unconsciousness,
your words…
Oh, how they turn

into voice.

Your  v o i c e.
And how it keeps replaying
like a broken phonograph…
as I fade into the abyss

of  thy  sweet   l o v e.