Ernesto P. Santiago Poet Free verse

7:30 A.M.

In the morning,
the sweet aroma
of Carnation
wafts 
from the earth 
of wine fed sleep. The unrelenting chimes 

of a lone tweeter
that you can’t fail 
to notice and yet-
you let him chime
all the while the kitchen, wasting 
your treasured time. A bird of passage is waiting 

outside, his radio is on, Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” 
tends his patience. Now once more, you’ve to tip him 
with generosity 
and Carnation fills the day 
with her spice-scented moral stories 
of domesticities.

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L'Nass Shango March 15, 2009 at 4:16 AM I tell you Santiago you have full cargo og imagery and sensibility, I notice a continuance of themes, is this deliberate? If so my friend, you have been given the poet's Holy Grail to quest, and you will need good telescopes for the tree of happiness. Great poetry.