Good Morning Beautiful Poems | Examples
These Good Morning Beautiful poems are examples of poetry about Good Morning Beautiful. These are the best examples of Beautiful Good Morning poems written by international poets.
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puffy
oooh so puffy
Trust you me Thick
first thing this morn
over her'z reach'd
tug'n
Lock’n mine
Claim’n herz'
thuh morn
Still though stuck
Her cute
bulgy
swole’d shut
genial
eyne
I rise with sun,with hope to try
I think and set,whom would be I !
I swim in sky ,all-day I breathe
I glide with birds,and songs I sing.
I laugh with sun,and talk to stars
I feel the heat,and catch the light
I play with rain,rainbow I touch
I fetch the clouds from hills & peaks.
And when I see, twilight with me
I smile and lick the orange flakes
Skyscapes I hug, farewell I bid
Then set wth Sun,and fall on land
I lay on land,I see the stars
Celestial glow and wet eyes
I miss the clouds,in sky they blow
I love the day,when I'll rise!!
Yeasty with a cornmealed bottom
The sun-dried tomato's and sundried
Red bell peppers called me
The parmesaned and garlic crust
topped with olives, anchovies, and
Onions
the queint essential of elegance
refined by the knead of belonging
Bacon wrapped artichokes
With a hint of lemon
Mozzarella browned to create a
delicate longing of satisfaction.
Basil, oregano, and olive oil
Enough to tease. Just enough
to taunt. Pleasing and exciting
the palettes and taste buds!
A hush falls soft on waking land,
Where silver threads through silence stand,
The trees half-dream in veils of white,
Bathed in the breath of fading night.
The sun, a whisper on the hill,
Spills golden ink, yet all is still.
The world in pause, a sacred hush—
The mist moves slow, the day won't rush.
Each blade of grass wears nature's lace,
Each droplet holds the sky’s embrace.
The crows call low, their wings outspread,
Through morning's gauze, both seen and led.
The earth exhales its ghostly sigh,
And writes a verse across the sky.
In that brief spell, all time seems kissed—
By silence, light, and morning mist.
.
i could not leave'er
no
not
not
whilst her princess
in her night frock
rest'd 'gainst
thuh huge
vindowz
tick'lin mine think
cauze'n mine breathe'z
rapid
az thuh spring'z morn'nin
sun
paint'd hern
no
not i
,)
forgetting how good we have it
granted in life we take
still summer nights are moonlit
until the morning wake
I walked on stage.
Singing one of Cyndi Lauper's songs.
I sang a sweet melody, and everyone sang along.
My voice sounded sweet and strong.
I woke up from my slumber.
Realizing that it was just a dream.
I didn't hear my mother call me.
Telling me that it was time to go to school.
I decided to sleep a bit more.
Falling into that REM stage.
Dawn to dusk
Redeems our chant
And Monks gather to thee
In Chorus we sing
Hallelujah power and glory be
Trumpets the Angels
Oh so heavenly
We drink of love the life of his blood
We thirst for peace on Earth
Amongst the tabernacle
Echoes the masonary
Our prayer of past in my heart
born are scriptures
Our history
The goat kneels upon the havoc
Witness the angels who see
To the left is his pew
Upon the velvet sewn
By fair hand
Mary Our mother
Praise she's coming home
The bread of life the blood in you
We feed to thee
In Chorus we sing
The lambs are we
Hallelujah power and glory be
Trumpets the Angels
Oh so heavenly
The lamb kneels upon the havoc
Witness the angels who see
To the right we sit
Upon the velvet sewn
By fair hand
Mary Our mother
She has returned
We are coming home
Buckfast Abbey
feet displacing sand
water filling up the space
imprint vanishing
crimson mixes of love and rage,
a cauldron of heartache bubbling,
memories shared, now a tribute,
to the venom in my pen writing.
fueling our past, surviving tonight,
amongst the stars and the sky,
a love lost in time, a phantom limb,
echoes of what could have been.
colliding paths, a spark of passion,
fate and chance — two stars torn,
nova hurricane, supernova rain,
our own lifeforce, we remain.
dawn's warmth awakens,
and night's secrets whispers their final sigh.
the crescent moon, a lover's lingering glance,
blinks farewell, as our midnight circle mists,
leaving only dawn's promise,
of another paradoxical gaze from the stars.
Elegy of the River and the Sea
For life and death are one,
like the river and the sea.
In grief, our tears taste different,
our ways of mourning unique.
You weep; I compose elegies.
My brother, high on marijuana,
the island battered by hurricane Beryl.
As the sea crashes upon the land,
seaweed lashes out like demons.
Are we prepared for this?
To whom it may concern,
do not call me early in the morning.
I am not yet awake for words.
Give me time to sip my coffee,
to savor the warmth of intimacy.
Let me read “Good Morning, Sunshine.”
For life and death are one,
like the river and the sea.
My daily poem whispers:
"Leave me alone in the morning
with my thoughts."
My mother outlived my father.
I aspire to outlive the sparrows.
In God, I entrust my life.
.
Hern fantastical sip'd
mine veuve
stare'n up
into mine
Her torso'z frame
Tilted
Back
Mine bedroom'z
Wicker
expose'n mine breakfast
in splender
Jehovah God Almighty
Made hern to
Be
pluperfect
to mine whole
imaginez
There’s a box lying somewhere.
Somewhere in a dusty cupboard.
Somewhere behind old paper, older words, and wounds older still.
Somewhere no one can find it.
I think about it, sometimes.
Sometimes, when I breathe.
Sometimes, when I exhale puffs of grey smoke and let those rashes bleed.
Sometimes, when in the dead of night, my lashes are wet.
Sometimes, when I’m looking somewhere, lost and stumble upon a sunset.
Apples and peaches,
Magentas and vermilions,
Pearls and emeralds,
all strewn across a cobalt, teal sky.
The sky you loved.
I drown in it when no one’s looking.
No one would understand, anyway.
I miss them reflected in that shard of glass we held together.
The one that broke, in giggles and hysterics, that very summer.
The one that I, upon a whim, hid in a wooden chest.
The one that I, with trembling hands, unlatched years later.
Long after you had left.
And it’s much too late
to go back
Much too late.
When I woke up this morning,
With the Sun's glowing rays
I leaned forward to feel
The warmth of it on my face.
I, sitting on the porch,
Watching nature awaken
Birds come out for feeding
I was excited and shaking.
The wind blows softly,
The trees wave their leaves
Like they were saying:
Good morning to me.
The doves in the background,
Are cooing for more.
Cotton ball clouds: of greys and white,
Roaming the sky above feels right
The smell of rain permeates the air
Flowers unfold pedals
Forms the beauty out there.
While perched atop on the hill, I look around and observe the bright blue sky
it’s early in the morning and only birds break the sound of silence
I try to sketch the scenery and listen to the sounds of nature
What a beautiful life I have, what a beautiful life it is