When day is done, and clouds are low
And stars breathless with adoration
Then comes the wishing hour
A thousand shadows to beguile the time
Sweet creations of the soul
Some of beauty some of despair
Some of ecstasy some snatched away
Like treasures – sweet flowers in haste
I toss into the night
My basket full of wishes
Loveliest of lovely things are they
Thoughts of the sweetest, saddest things
The wind to blow and set them free
Wishing hour … witching hour … either way … it will happen … Love, cat.
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Lovely!
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