Morning Sun

The early morning sunrise
makes me think of you,
gentle strokes of soft light
cross your morning dew.

And tender thoughts
will cross my mind
and ride up to the sky,
I never question loving you,
no need to ask them why.

The morning sun lifts its face
above your lovely garden,
your budding fruit accepts its light,
on through the day it hardens.
And to the end approaching dusk when
earth reaches for the night,
we come together in our musk
and breathe a satisfying sigh.

And tender thoughts
will cross my mind
and ride into the night,
I never question loving you,
no need to ask them why.

© All Rights Reserved

Similar Posts

  • Paper Trail

    I know your name, your age, and your address, Your best friend and your sexual preference, Who you dated in high school, and since then, Much more do I know, yet we’ve never met. Finding you out was easy, It only took me one day; I know you’ll think this is sleazy, But your license…

  • Visitor

    Mothers’ come to visit in the middle of the night. There must be something unfinished, maybe there’s something more to say. Mothers’ come to visit from the other side of the grave. Mothers’ come to visit in the middle of the night, While I sleep I hear her speak, she only visits in my dreams….

  • Old Is New

    Chocolate mescaline Alice in Wonderland, the old is the new and surrounds me with you. In case you weren’t listening; maybe my words melted in your mind, maybe from your world you didn’t see my eyes begging for a single moment of time. I want to take your youth, I want to steal you away…

  • In The Flame

    Dancing in the flame of life, unaware of the forces that feed, no need to know of the heat or the air or the fuel, and yet — take one of them away, just one, and the dancing will cease. Dancing in the flame of life, controlled and deliberate, not allowed to leap too high…

  • Life Is Hell

    Sometimes life just gets you down, going to sleep and waking up and everything in between is consumed with the single thought, “I just want to end it all.” It isn’t the thought of suicide that appeals to the mind, life or death – neither matters, nothing matters when you’re tired of life, when you’ve…

  • Oh, I Hate That…

    To know what hate feels like is to know the bitter side of life, it steals little pieces of your soul, little pieces that might never grow. I was at work the day after Christmas, nineteen eighty five, when the call came. And my boss, who was my friend, handed me the phone with a…

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *