Thee

Mornings favor clean and calm,

the birds will chipper cheer,

some days are full of bliss and woe.

Mornings Glory takes this though.

Breathing in the fresh sprig air,

green in flavor, clean in heir.

Soaking up the dew of nigh,

steaming through those stormy nites.

Loving, leaving, liking knot,

get up and try to think a lot,

close not your eyes, open shut.

It's deeming, streaming from your gut.

Cherish moments, full days,

having this may blow away.

Hugs and kisses this I "No",

coffee pots of thee I go.

Lungs fill and empty,

rhythm slow, morning breath,

please, "don't go".

Beauty is like the snow,

white with purity, ice like glow.

Some just do not know.

K.A.P.

5/17/2009