As Morning Spills
How dim the stars when sullen and fading
as songbirds warble, their trills pervading.
When the world still sleeps at dawn's blush,
there's a lyrical melody in the call of a thrush.
I listen with my heart, and most attentive ear
to the harmony of doves. Cooing voices, I hear.
But in such moments, life seems dreadfully dark.
I long for a consoling chorus from a meadowlark.
With wistful memories I am oft' denied sleep.
In loneliness, I sit at my open window and weep,
recalling how we danced in the glow of moonlight.
Now, I mourn for dreams that will never take flight.
My time of love was quilted in layers of years,
and yesterday's memories flow with my tears.
Morning spills: my heart is tempered by sunlight
and though I tossed and turned through the night,
in a restless dream I heard him say, "Do not cry."
In my reverie, it was as if we never said goodbye.
~ ~ ~
June 15, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 2 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Originally written on 3/25/21
Fragments of Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
Excerpts from: In Morning's Sweet Silence 1/22/21
How Dim the Stars 1/9/21 Fragile is Life 11/3/20
A Shadow in Moonlight 10/17/20
As if We Never Said Goodbye 6/27/20
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