Morning
For many years my mornings were
unnoticed in the rushing blur;
with one eye on the speeding clock,
the other searching for lost sock.
Someone has left his books behind
and there’s the sock so hard to find.
Mornings when young family grew
were busy times of getting through.
And then, those years I was employed,
morning did not find me overjoyed.
I had no time to spare a minute
to find a bit of pleasure in it.
Retired and children grown, I’ve found
When I have the chance to look around
to see the glory of the morn,
it makes me glad that I was born.
No other time of day is new
And sparkling with the morning dew.
As the sun rises over distant hills
it’s then my heart with gladness fills.
The colors painted in the sky,
unmatched by any mortal’s dye
with skill unequaled by mere man,
have made of me a morning’s fan.
The rest of my day is filled with duty.
Morning is the time to savor beauty.
By: Joyce Johnson 9/28/11 for nette's contst "In 24 Hours"Won one of several 4ths
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2011
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