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Best Morning Poems

Below are the all-time best Morning poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of morning poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Morning Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Morning poems are below this new poems list.

By A Lake In The Morning by Annis, Jacob
Christmas Morning by Wings, Broken
Early Morning by Ward, Julia
Morning Secrets by Rose, Mystic
This morning by Divine, Killumini
The Sunday Morning Surfer by Rigoler, Maurice
Good Morning by CW, Theresa
GOOD MORNING KISS by Morris, Carlton Dean
Honor Morning by Rose, Mystic

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The Best Morning Poems

Details | Morning Poem | |

Some Mornings

Some mornings I lie in silence just staring at the walls not a sound at all around except the ticking down the hall it can feel so refreshing without a trouble or a care but then I start thinking how I wish you were here Some mornings I bask in sunshine warming up my bed I lie in all its comfort as my day's about to start I close my eyes and wonder about your pure and giving heart how I wish you were near me it was your warmth that I did feel how I'd hold you close and not let go make all these feelings real Some mornings I wake to darkness there's thunder in the air rain's upon my window and in my heart grows fear I cuddle with my pillow pull my sheets up over my head it's then I miss your body, your warmth and comfort in my bed Some mornings I'm rushed and hurried no time to lie in bed no time to think, plan or ponder no time to dream, hope or wonder It's then when I miss your presence When I need help getting out the door those little daily reminders getting my feet upon the floor Some mornings I wake and smile as I feel kisses upon my cheek feel wind blowing through my hair and soft touches all over me it's then I know I'm in heaven with you right by my side We lie in endless mornings Just me and my soulmate bride

Copyright © Tim Smith

More great poems below...

Details | Morning Poem | |

The Stone

The Tale below was carved one night,
Upon the Stone, by candlelight
...most won’t believe, but some just might
.........most won’t believe, but some just might

.                         Preface

Well James made Beth his lovely bride
(And angels smiled, though teary eyed)
...their bodies bound, their spirits tied
.........their bodies bound, their spirits tied

Upon her hand, a shimmer shone,
As bright as blood, a ruby Stone 
...and brighter still, as love had grown
.........and brighter still, as love had grown

Soon James was sent to man a sail
So Beth removed her wedding veil
...her eyes were bright, her face was pale
.........her eyes were bright, her face was pale

“Well, I’ll be here when you return”
Said Beth to James, who kissed in turn
...a kiss that made her body burn
.........a kiss that made her body burn

.                         BETH’S TALE

1.              The Dream
One night, within a dream deformed,
The cawing of a Crow informed
“...a Ship was stripped where winter stormed
.........a Ship was stripped where winter stormed

Midst winds and waves the thunder boomed
The Ship of Death was surely doomed
...the sea engulfed, the sea entombed
.........the sea engulfed, the sea entombed

Your James... denied by Davy Jones!
His spirit gone, his flesh and bones
...are resting now amongst the Stones
.........are resting now amongst the Stones”

2.               The Quest

Awoken by the ebon Wight
And beckoned by the baneful bight
...I left before the morning light
.........I left before the morning light

Throughout the realm I rode a roan
Until, in time, I reached the Stone
...where shades and dreams in darkness groan 
.........where shades and dreams in darkness groan 

While skipping up and down the sky
A missing moonbeam mocked my eye
...enough to make a Swallow cry
.........enough to make a Swallow cry

For someone stole a star or two
And something else that fate withdrew – jewel of joy, my James Bijou jewel of joy, my James Bijou

The shadows of the evening swelled
Where demons of the dusk had dwelled
...and in the far, a vesper knelled
.........and in the far, a vesper knelled

The Stone, beneath the sky, stood cold –
Between the runes, a vapour strolled
...a cloak of fleecy fog consoled
.........a cloak of fleecy fog consoled

A Raven on a branch, enthroned,
Her wings waved once, a wail intoned
...beyond the bay, a banshee moaned
.........beyond the bay, a banshee moaned

I lay beside the Stone, his bride
I lay beside the Stone and cried
...but were it I, instead, that died
.........but were it I, instead, that died

The rainbow of the moon fell dim
A midnight Swan soon ceased to swim if to hide all hint of him if to hide all hint of him

Between the willows in the swale
There sang a Bird, a Nightingale
...which left me faint and feeling frail
.........which left me faint and feeling frail

3.              Contact

I felt him breathe within a breeze
Responding to my anguished pleas
...and leaves blew by abandoned trees
.........and leaves blew by abandoned trees

“I miss you too, my darling Beth”
Re-echoed from the Ship of Death
...the future buried in a breath
.........the future buried in a breath
The Stone lit up a ruby sheen
And clouds were kindled crystalline
...with consequences, unforeseen
.........with consequences, unforeseen

Above, the wretched Raven soared
To where the Ship of Death lay moored
...beneath, the icy ocean roared
.........beneath, the icy ocean roared

4.               Release

I’m joined with James beneath the Stone,
Though to the Ship my spirit’s flown,
...for nevermore to be alone
.........for nevermore to be alone

.                         Epilogue

That night the wayward winds were weird 
The Ship of Death had disappeared
...coyotes called and mortals feared
.........coyotes called and mortals feared

At dusk, the craven shadows crawled
At dawn, the winds of mourning called
...upon the Stone two names were scrawled
.........upon the Stone two names were scrawled

The Raven sits, with wings outspread,
Atop the Stone which shades the dead sometimes shimmers ruby red sometimes shimmers ruby red

.                         Epitaph

Between the sounds, where silence seeps,
Their love lives on and never sleeps
...and yet, the weeping willow weeps
.........and yet, the weeping willow weeps

inspired by ~fc~

Wight (obsolete): a supernatural being, creature
Bight: a bay or gulf
Swale: a moist depression in a tract of land

Copyright © Terry O'Leary

Details | Morning Poem | |

Sea Bride

Across the white sand waters
meld of teal and turquoise hue,
in sunlight, emerald facets, 
in shadow, grays of blue,
first breaking light of heaven,
tinted sky in tones of shell,
dancing lights, pearl pink and saffron,
fleck the bosom of the swell.
On waves of crisper coral
the majestic sun ship sails,
bright bride aflame in glory
blushed beneath her misty veils.
Such beauty blinds my vision;
my gaze is downward drawn
to vanilla foam soft swirling
in the footprints of the dawn.

Faye Lanham Gibson

Copyright, April 16, 2014

Copyright © Faye Gibson

Details | Morning Poem | |

On this lovely morning

On this lovely morning

I sit here, this fine morning
And I feel I have to write
Just as the day is dawning
It gives me sweet delight
Black Cockatoos fly overhead
It's a lovely mystic morn
On this wondrous path I tread
A new day it is born.

The sun comes shining high above
The sky is mystic blue
It bathes the flowers with its love
They shine in every hue
As only love can fill my soul
The love for everything
The whole wide world it seems so whole
My heart begins to sing.

As birds they feed upon my lawn
Such pleasure I do feel
The mystery that comes with dawn
So tender and so real
I feel it to my deepest core
It mesmerises me
How I really do adore
Dawns lovely mystery.

15 October 2014


Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Morning Poem | |

Be Quiet

If you could paint a picture of silence
What color would it be?

Would you use the brush of fog to hush all sound 
A shade of gray, with touch of brown,
where eaves are dripping to the ground
and windows weep their quiet tears
Where solitude obscures the view
In a slate of lonely winterlude?

Or would it be a shade of green
A forest deep, of muted breeze
No sound to scatter birds from trees
No broken branches, swaying grasses
Missteps that crackle the fallen leaves
Untouched by clatter, harsh and rude?

Would silence be as black as night
A cave too deep for shards of light
A void within a famished core
A well of dark and empty shores?

Or would silence be of many hues?
A rainbow shade of morning dew
A soft pastel of sun declining?
No bedlam, blast or blare of noise
Could break the spell, a silent voice 
As if the soul could slip away....

A hush, sweet and keen, 
Like ghosts unseen, or angels soft as air...
A silent sea, ....where mountains lend an ear
As clouds pile high, ....and wait to hear...
Only for this:  such peace....such bliss
A sound so small, ... as welcome as a sigh

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Morning Poem | |

Inner Eye

In-between sleep and wakefulness,
when my dream still lingers,
entwining free-flown fingers
with the morning rays, dancing across my eyelids.

It is in this state of in-between layers
that my inner-eye blinks its prayers,
and I can move backwards
through all of my many memories
until about the age of three -
the time when my imagination was truly free.

When I was three,
there wasn't one God for me to believe in.
There were thousands of Gods and Goddesses
hiding inside of each and every living thing:
Deities in the woods and wind.
Deities hiding beneath the surface 
of our goldfish pond,
water nymphs kissing the feet
of the Lady in the lake.

One of my most vivid memories as a toddler,
was the day I caught a huge, black cricket.
My Father seemed shocked at the size of my catch,
punched holes into the lid of a mason jar
for me to keep the cricket inside of.
He had never seen such an enormous cricket before.
I was so proud.
I remember looking into its mysterious eyes,
believing for some strange reason,
that a loved one, was now inside of this creature.

Such strange thoughts for a three year-old to have.
But at the time, I truly believed in this.
This was sort of my first inner awakening.
My inner-eye was beginning to speye.
The first night with my cricket,
I listened to its hypnotic song,
and realized it sounded similar to the music
that the old Chinese lady listened to, down the street.
This was sort of my second inner awakening.

I didn't know about the Dao back then;
or maybe I just didn't know the labels?
But I did know how I was altering the destiny
of this creature....altering my own being.

The next day, my Father made me release the cricket.
He did not want it to die,
for it was the biggest cricket he had ever seen.
That was still the most proud I had ever been.
Reluctantly, I opened the jar,
waited an eternity for the escape.
That night I swore that I could hear
a distinct "Chiiiiiiirrrrrup" much louder than the rest.
This was sort of my third inner awakening -
my inner-eye, beginning to speye....

....just as I am awakening now,
the morning rays dancing across my eyelids.

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Morning Poem | |

- Black Love -

                                               Morning glory
                                               The body is blunt
                                               Thinking of you
                                               before I awake
                                               Stretching my body
                                               Eyes are closed
                                               Can feel your scent
                                               Gently open my eyes
                                               Feel your aroma                                      
                                               The taste on my lips
                                               As a soft kiss                                       
                                               Your scent fills the room
                                               Thought of you,
                                               makes me awake
                                               You are perfect
                                               Heats my body
                                               Embracing you 
                                               Tasting you ... gently                         
                                               A moment of pleasure
                                               Without cream
                                               Without sugar
                                               Black morning coffee

A-L  Andresen :)

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Morning Poem | |


AWAKE  ~ IN and OUT ~

Spring arising, before morning light,
I walk under the new epic sun
The aroma of yesterday, gone
Today's the day that will follow tomorrow
I quickly walk a certain walk
Unique is all I can display
Watery eyes staying in the past
While vehicles pass and pass
Crosses lacking faith
I stay awake and mend with my fate
Foggy toys, I want to play
I can't keep up with all your kicks
I look, I stare, at the walls
Bright and early, I step on old dolls
I stay and feel, the way you want
Lifeless, and still so full of energy
Mad words, unconscious forces
My sweet needs, now reside inside of you
Mad, sad, and outside the box
You close every door and keep me away from dark

You only allow me to feel your morning light
Why can't you let me see what's behind the shadows?
Why do you turn on all the lights? 

I'm here the way you want me to be
Happy, and merry, for the world to see
This blindness will continue to spot
Unless you wake up first and remove the dot
You gave me the thirst, you once knew
So filthy, so full of  -spew
Under this closed freaking door
I'm exposed like the midday sun
You bang my head on the wall,
You killed me in a way that made me feel!
I only answer to your call
In and out a hoop~ like a ball
In me, you can not find any real dreams!
Inside you filled me with a raging scream

I'm in wonder around your air castle
Strange and hung on your mantle
Stepping on a one footed slave

Alert, alert Am I!!!
I shake, we kiss, I wake,
You sleep...........................
I zip all things into one zipper.
Pounding my hands against my ears
Crazy, taking a jab upon all jabs
Crazy, you say~ that's me everyday
I'm up and I caress the photo we once had
I lay only staring at you once more
I awake before I sleep
Your promises I keep
In me~ you are also in deep
My stars change everyday
Waiting for you, to pull the trigger
Still wishing to be a sun digger

You can't touch or loosen the knots
Together we will daydream our way to the top
I make your nerve system come alive, 
We run into the wind and listen
Quietly in our chamber of thoughts
Near and far, we both nod off
In this daily race, with no face
No space, 
I caught myself awake, 
The day I fell asleep for you.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Morning Poem | |


In a glimmered lace of sunrise’s veil, dawn hovers like a freshly-cleansed nymph, wafting and bubbling with a spice of mint in dew’s chastity pool delicately undressed. The path of upturned boughs rips free and slides along a froth of peppered mist; misty in a way newborn day becomes pastel fingers where wings of her breath become illumined as it is daring;calling forth, Borealis...Borealis. And a deluge of herb wraps her air: a seasoning moment for this flushed lady to unfold the carpet of studded foliage cradling around her heady arms... soon, a gush of light bears newly-wed rays, until the fragrance of earth drifts upon her mantle feeling the delicacy of radiant morn, weightlessly white; no one wants to speak. Anthony Slausen's Aurora and Avalanche 2/25/2015

Copyright © nette onclaud

Details | Morning Poem | |

Sunday Morning

Sunday Morning
I try not to wake him, though he stirs slightly
As I crawl out from the warmth of the covers.
I'm tempted to change my mind, and stay awhile longer,
But a glint of sunlight peeks through the blind and calls to me.
If I burrow down again, and drowse too long, 
This glorious time of day will be gone...until it comes again tomorrow.

I tiptoe quietly and begin the morning ritual.
The splashing of water on my face, of letting the dog out,
Of brewing the dark, hot liquid that will help to
Open my eyes and recharge my reluctant brain.

The inviting aroma finally wakes my senses, and after
The first sip, I begin to feel the desire to join the world again.
I go outside, step onto the weathered porch, down the steps,
Onto the wet grass to retrieve today's bundled news.
Within it comes a page-by-page account of disasters, obituaries and comics...
I decide to forego all that gloom, and lay the paper beside the front door.

Instead, I drink in the morning air.
The new day is slowly coming alive.  There's a slight chill.
This coolness will be baked away later, when the sun is high.
I pull my robe around me tightly, and sit down on the stoop.
Birds are chirping, and soon, I see that neighbors are beginning to embrace the 
House by house, there is evidence that awakening has occurred.

A car is cruising by our  house.  The occupants, wearing their
Sunday best, and on their way to an early service to praise the Lord.
While some are sitting in pews, singing Alleluia,
A man down the street is starting his lawnmower.
Not mindful that the Sabbath is a day of rest,
Or that he may wake a late sleeper.

Inside my house, I hear the sounds of water running and dishes rattling.
Then someone calling my name.  In a moment he appears
Carrying two steaming mugs of black coffee, one for him, and another for me.
He's come to see what this new day has offered, and sits down beside me.

We sit together quietly, and soak up the morning sun.
It wraps its warmth around us, like the bedcovers we had abandoned.
No words are needed to enjoy this moment.
However, toast and jam, and bacon await us.  So we turn and go inside.

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Morning Poem | |

The Hunter's Children Cry

He walked amid the woodlands muted morn.
The scents of earth were wafting on the breeze.
For dawn had moistened yet another day.
And silence dripped beneath the autumn trees.

A rustle in dry leaves, he caught a glimpse.
His gun caressed the warmth of flannel sleeves.
The silent hunter, stalking, tiptoed near.
A golden-red meandered through the leaves.

The sun began to rise above the knoll.
It shone upon dark eyes; the gun rose high.
The pheasant flickered leaves; then, heard a crunch.
He recognized the scent; the man walked nigh.

Red feathers, brightly accented with gold,
Were ruffled as he took his fighting pose.
The cockerel next to man had no defense.
So, high above the trees the pheasant rose!

His hungry children waited back at home.
He rushed along the trail up to the crest.
The pheasant lost from view; his stomach growled.
The hunter and his gun had done their best.

At noon, the hunter rested on a log.
The water in his canteen, nearly dry,
No morsel did he eat as day grew long.
The stealthy man could hear his children’s cry.

December 1, 2014

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Structured forms - Iambic verse - Sketch a fictitious character - (Top Gun Poetry) - Poetry Contest
Sponsor	Giorgio A. V.

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Details | Morning Poem | |

Cold, Hot and Bothered

 Cold Monday morning
 He mumbles under his breath
 Car engine stutters
 As he turns the key in vain
 Temperature is rising.

 Written ~ 20th March, 2015
 Contest: Tanka 2
 Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
 Placed: 4th

Copyright © Paul Callus

Details | Morning Poem | |

A Spring Miracle

April's mist has filtered the early sunrise, Meadows spread their blankets of colored rainbows Newborn lambs have nestled in clover cradles, christened by dewdrops
___________________ By Carrie 3/17/15 For Craig's Contest: Sapphic Stanza Number Three

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Morning Poem | |


                              like tincture
                      of flame,
                                      a coral-gold
                                    till sun
                                              on fields
                                                 cradling morn
                                                   with rays...
                                                     as peach        

                                   Waltzing In Color Contest
                              Sponsor: Kim Merryman



Copyright © nette onclaud

Details | Morning Poem | |

Come to Me

Come to me, before the morning dawns with crimson blush 
Move the covers from me slowly, stir me with your touch 
Kiss me where you want to, baby, love me with your lips 
Trace a path of longing from my shoulders to my hips 
Wrap me in your arms securely, slip into my dreams
Guide me to your heartbeat while you teach me what love means 
Whisper words of heated passion with a lover’s hush
Take me there, before the morning dawns with crimson blush 

Copyright © Becca Teagan

Details | Morning Poem | |

A Little Foggy

The fog is so thick I can not see the sticks, that in a wasted life,
rise off the dirty grave of the forest floor. 
There is no beauty that could compare to the sight
of the thick ground clouds, that embrace my morning. 
To run through the moisturous blanket into the unseen
and unknown would be a spectacular thrill. 
The cool droplet of water stroking my feet, as they are released from
the tall finger grasses. tickle me kindly. 
I chase the fog as its spread of mystery begins to rise
and confines back up into the sky. 
I reach for the heartbeat of the fog, hoping that surrounding my skin,
with its life, it would carry me away. 
I dance with it deeper into the dense woods, where it awakens the pine trees, 
with its wet breath. 
Higher and higher the fog rises.
I climb a welcoming oak tree,
stretching with its limbs grabbing for the clouds. 
Take me away my morning fog, I want to ride this elevator to the sky,
to the heavens, take me away. 
The fog disappaites and I am left with misty hands and empty eyes. 
I look around clearly, seeing the crispness of nature,
basking in all her beauty 
From the heights of this old oak tree,
I realize... I am lost. 

Vibrant Verse Contest

Copyright © CT Duet

Details | Morning Poem | |

Peaceful Morning

When the morning mists upon the majestic hills and the blue bird whistles a playful song when the sun emerges over the horizon and taps you gently upon your cheek when the smell of fresh roast coffee lingers into your loving dream and your worries are set free slowly open your soft sweet eyes hold those covers tight and feel my ever present warmth when the sea breeze carries in thoughts of me and caresses your silky skin when your heart beats strong and your morning shines just smile and let me in

Copyright © Tim Smith

Details | Morning Poem | |

New Dawn

As I roll out of bed tomorrow
I’m gonna say goodbye sorrow
Fare thee well Mr. Cynicism
See you later Mr. Pessimism
Adios to Mr. Skepticism
Exit negativity, enter positivity
No procrastination and inactivity 
An idle mind is the devils workshop
That’s why I’ll exert myself nonstop
No more misery and depression
As exuberance replaces dejection
Success is around the corner
It’s coming now and not later
Victory is surely heading my way
No matter what people may say
I quit banking my future on luck
Time has come to break the duck
A new dawn has shown its face
My home will be a better place
I’m a potential winner, a true born victor
Within me lies a superstar, a megastar
No I’m not building castles in the air, 
I’m not dreaming, I’m not hallucinating
I have to earn my place in history
Put a good ending to my unfinished story
My story is about confidence, not arrogance
I advocate humility, not vanity
Trials and tribulation come and go
Sticky situations are not unique to you
But we all know as well as you do
You need hard work and determination 
For the youth, education is the only solution
You’ve got to make the decision
To extract yourself from destitution 
Leave nothing at all to chance
For fortune favours the brave
No sweet without sweat, no pain, no gain
Each time you fall recollect and try again
A dream doesn’t become reality through magic
Lazy genius is not only sad but also tragic
Stay focused, keep your eyes on the prize
There is no substitute for hard work
There are no secrets to success
Only in the dictionary does success precede work
We are all gifted, skilled and talented 
Unshackle that innate ability 
Let loose that latent capability
I’m gonna prepare, plan and plot
Execute and give it my best shot
Until the day that I hit the jackpot

Copyright © John Pen

Details | Morning Poem | |



Good morning World.

Damn you!
and your warm
sunray fingers
prying open my eyes.

Robbing me of my
nocturnal fantasies,
my semiconscious bliss.

Leaving the remnants
of my peace 
and tranquillity
laying scattered across
my face and through
my hair.

Your rising light
shrinking the shadows
of my freedom.

I will not be seduced
by your clear blue promises.

For your pressing realities
already taste foul
in my mouth.

Leave me Morning
to my diminishing serenity.

I have performed this piece and it shows on you tube (I hope this works, if not try copying to your address bar):

Copyright © scott thirtyseven

Details | Morning Poem | |

My Morning Greetings To You

once the sun greets the day with its glorious face I’ll run to you and give you my sweetest embrace giving you my warmest smiles and kiss on your cheeks hoping that it will bring happiness and give you a morning bliss once I see all the smiles on your very beautiful face I’ll run to your garden and pick three of those red roses giving you wholeheartedly with all my loving wishes may your day be filled with sunshine and God’s loving graces once I see the sunshine has completely brightened your face I’ll run to the altar and pray that happiness goes on ‘til all the days ahead giving you a rainbow to crown your life for all your deeds you are a very special person, far more precious than a gold or jade Feb. 9, 2013 12.10am
First Place Contest: PD Poems (any poem written or dedicated to me) Judged: 6/15/13 Sponsor; My greatest poet, friend & sis Linda First Place Contest: Any Poem Deidicated Judged: 1/11/14 Sponsor: My loving Poet Sis, PD Note: Good morning my dearest poetry sis & BFF of mine. I'm submitting this poem again. One of the poems I've written before which was lovingly dedicated to you. :))) I woke up so early today, Jan. 11.2014 'to take midnight meal:)). Once I arrived home yesterday after school I fall asleep & missed my dinner ;)). I hope you will love & enjoy again my morning greetings poem. Biggest hugs!

Copyright © Leonora Galinta

Details | Morning Poem | |


THE SWAINS Under cumulus clouds, grew cauliflowers. He planted them with love because I adorn them when they were harvested to the table of healthy man, my husband; sons; and brothers. All were vegetable farmers of California. We woman loved cooking for them. They say there never was a better meal than this one every time we cooked. That was each day of the yield. Spirits were high as hell. The profits were insurmountable. They increased each year. The sunshine brightly and this eased our fears. We became wealthy and retired well. Our children went off into the world. Both sons became Attorneys of Law. _____________________________| Penned on October 30, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Morning Poem | |

Only you and me

The garden curled around us as we sat beneath the stars,
In the silver shine of Venus and the rust red glow of Mars.
The brandy was between us and we toasted life and love,
While the moon conducted music from the dark green leaves above.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.
Vintage brandy in the bottle seemed to ask us both to drink
And the flowers that were watching clearly knew what they should think.
Then your glass was finally empty and you laid it to one side
While you closed your eyes and kissed me and the barn owl tried to hide.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.
There was silence in my city as your lips were joined to mine
And I tasted all of heaven and a little brandy wine.
As our bodies settled closer and we melted into one
With embarrassed little giggles that were sure to signal fun.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.

So we gathered up the glasses and we put the stars to bed
Then we walked along the garden path, my shoulder 'neath your head.
We pulled each other closer and we whispered with our hands
That tonight is all that matters and the whole world understands.
In the cold grey light of morning we may think things diff'rently,
In the moonlight, in the garden, there was only you and me.

Copyright © Jeff Green

Details | Morning Poem | |

Raising Sun

                    Running hard into the early raising sun
                        A warm breeze lifts off the river
                      Heart and breath feeding each other
                          My soul sings to the morning
                      It is good to be alive – come join me

David Meade
Live Generously

Copyright © David Meade

Details | Morning Poem | |

The Dawn

                   The Dawn

The Dawn, with enormous slowness, penetrates
Chasing darkness back behind his gates
Where, displaced, he will a while reside
Forced to retreat before the crimson tide
That creeps across the land until she frees
All from the night, she moves by sure degrees

The orange glimmer runs to thinnest blue
And on to black with ever changing hue
The heavens bow, the stars they disappear
One by one, until the sky is clear
The golden dome erupts and light she spreads
To encourage all to leave their beds

The moon decides it’s time to slink away
Out shone by mornings colour filled array
The welcome lamp arrives to please the trees
The creatures of the day, the flowers, bees
The birds awake and then begin to raise
In raptures to her glory, songs of praise

Once more the spectre of eternal night
She breaks and gives the Earth her wondrous light
Then man knows best his insignificance
Looks on in awe at her magnificence
Alone he stands upon this modest hill
And prays she comes each day
And always will.

Copyright © Richard D Seal

Details | Morning Poem | |


walking home.
US two alone
At DUSK. Dark and US.
You were loving me
I was loving you.
We were loving we

Those months drifted by 
SLIGHTLY to soon.
Remember the sunset.
Remember the laureling

LAUREATE!  SUNSET  that was it!
You were great.

It's getting LATE.

Can't wait 'til