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Best Morning Poems | Poetry

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The Best Morning Poems

Details | Morning Poem |

The Glory Of The Eastern Edge



In moments of twilight civility
an exchange of gifts - 
darkness for light..

RISING

from beyond the softening silhouetted edge
you brighten like a blushing damsel
hazy haloed
taking unabashed pleasure in the ripening dawn

daydreamer 
...a vivid blur of lemon drop...
is veiled by wispy fanfares of mares’ tails
windswept forth in pinkened pageantry
heralding the maturing marmalade horizon -
and arousing 
a drowsing periwinkle sky

your prosperous glow casts a molten net of gold
slanting low across the ebb and flow
igniting the imagination - agleam with peachy dreams - of just-waking waters
and catching fire-tipped riffles; 
rubies gathered ride the tide to the coastline
glamorizing the washed still-sleepy seaward sand  
saturated in the rose-colored nectar 
of your generous nature ~



Susan Ashley
October 13, 2018





*Mare’s tail: a long narrow cirrus cloud whose flowing appearance somewhat resembles a horse’s tail, often indicating high winds in the upper troposphere.*

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 –
...my jewel of joy, my James Bijou   
.........my 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
...as if to hide all hint of him
.........as 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
...it sometimes shimmers ruby red
.........it 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~

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

Details | Morning Poem |

Coffee Colored Memories

It's quiet whisper stirs my languid mind
Inviting coffee colored memories
A young man's face with future yet defined
Each vapored breath a page in history

Familiar apparitions reappear
Whose images I dare not chase away
The roads they traveled, washed out by my tears
This morning's chill a bridge to yesterday

Then as the welcome sun breaks o'er the trees
I find myself attended by a smile
Their goodbyes echo in the rustling leaves
As I walk back alone those last few miles

While standing on the porch I get a chill
Although the morning breeze has now grown still


               Sept 11 2016

Details | Morning Poem |

Once Upon a Purple Sunrise

Once Upon a Purple Sunrise

Pretty as a Periwinkle,
in your frilly summer frock,
the one with purple polka dots
that matched the cool of early dawn.

Haloed in hazy lavender hue,
I'll always remember you;
running bare-foot through
the corn fields still wet
with translucent drops
of fragrant morning dew.

The scent of damp, fresh grass
lingering on your waist-length, 
ebony braids, that wrestled free
of their crimson satin ribbons,
floating away in the pale blaze 
of a new day, riding on a gentle breeze.

Your childish giggles drifted
through rows of raspberries bushes,
a look of total wonder reflected
in your bright smiling hazel eyes,
innocent as the wispy grey clouds,
that awake with the surprise
of a transient glowing sunrise.

Where did you come from, 
Little Sprite, with your 
mischievous deep dimples,
cherry-stained cheeks and lips?
Even gazelles would be jealous
of your long, lithe brown legs, 
graceful as a swan's,
gliding in casual slow motion.

Carefree as a hummingbird, 
hovering in suspended animation,
you were lost in the beauty
of your own song. 
Did you forget me,
waiting for you with 
finger sandwiches and sweet tea?

But that was okay –
it was your time to wander
in an ocean of wild yellow daisies
that needed to sprout
in your youthful heart…
take root and grow
in your memory forever.


02-17-2018

Best New Poem - 2/20/18
Poem of the Week 2/25/18 

Sponsor:     Silent One
Contest:      Sunrise and Sunset
Placement:  1st

Details | Morning Poem |

BLACKBIRD HAIKU

beautiful blackbird
chirruping the sweetest songs
morning has broken




Poem inspired by this wonderful Beatles song sung in Scottish Gaelic by Julie Fowlis

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MzetQfKwbE

05~20~17

Details | Morning Poem |

In the Gloaming

That first glimpse of purple in the gloaming
As dawn softly rises in morning skies 
Ascending along with nature's colors
Is a look of faith and hope in thine eyes.

Wrapped in the rays of sun's glorious hues;
There dwells a calm that instills peace and love
With a passion that enters every cell
In divine grace that shines light from above.

Meditate to serene silent music 
As the melody of birds sing along.
Elated at the birth of the morning
They share delight in their sweet varied song.

 Open your heart to passions of others...
 Feel with the empathy God has bestowed.
 Then you will know the true meaning of life 
 In the receiving back of blessings sowed.

9-25-17 rev.

Details | Morning Poem |

The Secrets Of Mornings

Each day dawns laden with secrets.

The morning dews are crystal balls, 
each holding a secret trailer of 
a fragment of day.    

The birds, chirping incessantly, 
gossip among themselves about the
delightful things you’ll find at 
the weekend market. 

In the crevice between the sun's 
virginal light and last night's shadows, 
an old friend waits for a 
scheduled chance encounter, 
bearing a gift of forgotten memories.

Fresh brew drips into the carafe of your
old coffee machine, tapping out
a Morse code of the new 
thoughts and feelings that will percolate 
into your brain in the hours to come.

And the curtains billow with echoes 
of the laughs to be laughed.

The day is waiting to confess 
its plans for you.

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.


Copyright, April 16, 2014

Details | Morning Poem |

The Color of Silence

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,  immense.....so 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

Details | Morning Poem |

DAWN

diamond dewdrops
glisten on gossamer threads
morning has broken

23rd May 2016

Details | Morning Poem |

AWAKE

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

Sssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! 
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.

by;PD

Details | Morning Poem |

PEASANTS WITH PLEASANT RAGS

You see us everywhere you go
Every corner of your street house our offspring
Every bridge in your city has become our refugee camp
We are the people you call peasant
We are the peasants with pleasant rags

You see us at the entrance of your estates
You see us at the gate of your beautiful companies
In search of what our mouth will feed on next

 We are the peasants with pleasant rags

Our gradually fading skin
Now a sweet companion to the midnight moon and afternoon sun
We are the ones without homes
We are the peasants with pleasant rags

When bridges become forbidden by the law
We opt for uncompleted  buildings
A few of us get lucky when it rains
And shield themselves under cars

 We are the peasants with pleasant rags

We are the ones that beg for the remnant from your table
We are the ones life has just not been fair to
We are the peasants with pleasant rags

We are the ones that get poorer while you get richer
We are the ones that scramble for the leftover at your feast
We are the ones that fight for your used clothes
We are the peasants with pleasant rags

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 
day.
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.

Details | Morning Poem |

It's Quiet Now

It is quiet now 
 -the sun moves up the ridge 

Honey crisp scent of freedom 
 -hovers and engulfs the air 

Pangs of pleasure peal 
 -the primrose bows her head 

Yellow paints the morning 
 -the fields are all aglow

Details | Morning Poem |

Springtime dawns


Springtime dawns


Springtime dawns
just beyond
the screen door,
across the porch
Dew swept lawn,
emerald weave
shimmering moisture
collecting foot prints
strolling towards

an arched entryway
gingerbread trimmed,
covered in jasmine
alive with rainbow
flutters, prismatic
butterfly wings
partaking of
nature’s pure nectar

Beneath it a
flagstone walkway
abstract stones
assorted shapes
and patterns
meandering through
lavender and hollyhock,
daisies and tulips

and upon it
you and me
hand in hand
watching the sunrise
wash the sky
in floral hued quivers 
as we welcome another
beautiful day
of love



Good morning Soupers

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




09.06.2013

Details | Morning Poem |

morning

MORNING

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):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egYjy4Iu5e8&feature=youtu.be
enjoy

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.

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

Details | Morning Poem |

BOREALIS



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.



Feb 2018 Premeire Contest: Brian Strand
Pepost  2/14/2018

Details | Morning Poem |

If You Are The Ocean...

If you are the ocean, then I am the mist
which kisses the morning the way children kissed
their mother at breakfast to start a new day
If you are the ocean, then anchors aweigh
We'll sail through the evening and on to the light
The daystar is dawning, we'll keep to the right
like Peter and Wendy to Neverlands' door
we'll sail on forever and touch every shore
If you are the ocean, come wash me away
to some misty morning and there we will play
on beaches you've loved all your lovely life long
If you are the ocean, then sing me a song
of sailors and treasures and I'll have to say
If you are the ocean, come wash me away...

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

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

Details | Morning Poem |

DAYBREAK IN PEACH



          lush
              daybreak
                   spreads
                          rhinestone
                              like tincture
                      of flame,
                             to
                                wildly
                                  unravel
                                      a coral-gold
                                            horizon...
                                    till sun
                                       bursts
                                              on fields
                                                 cradling morn
                                                   with rays...
                                                        warm
                                                     as peach        
                                                 glow.       
                                                   



                                   Brian Strand's May 2018 Premiere Contest

Details | Morning Poem |

Open your eyes


Open your eyes

If I were there I would caress your heart
with the thread of a silken cocoon
Stitched now as one on the eve of the weary,
bound by the light of the moon
Careful to touch oh so soft as a feather,
gentle as butterfly tears
Keeping you close on the edge of the tomorrow,
shielding your soul from the fears

Dew drop beliefs on the lawn they are waiting,
prisms of lighthearted scenes
Dandelion clouds offer sweet pea protection,
dragonflies float in between
Watching as breezes of painted day whispers
on kite strings of warm summer fire 
Sing with the echoes, repeating their sonnet,
offering all you desire

Though all I have is a poet’s conviction,
spilled now in ink penned to share
Hoping on dreams you will rest in the sunrise,
find a few moments to spare
Taking the hand of this forgotten hero,
trusting in him ever true
Open your eyes for a new day is dawning,
written with love just for you

Good morning Soupers