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Leah Oviedo Oct 2018
When that sliver of daybreak tugs at your eyes
Wake up to unexplored possibilities
Stretch your body in gratitude
Embrace the gift of a new day
Open your heart to a compassionate view
Welcome the sun as she rises for you
Ground into this world and listen for what you need
There is work to be done
In the streets and in your own heart
Start from the root
This is the first poem in 'Start From The Root', my recently published book of illustrations and poetry.  After a year of polishing this book, I'm excited to have completed this goal. I have been writing poetry for most of my life, but only seriously in the past four years. After several people I loved died in just a few years, I began to write poetry as a way to heal. It has been some of the best medicine.
Diana Santiago Oct 2018
Mornings and I don't get along
We are like oil and water
There is no sweet connection
They don't ever get my attention

Conversations invade my mental fog
Please be quiet and don't speak
Give me just five minutes to clear out
Before closing me in with words from your mouth

Allow me to refuel with some caffeine
Marinate my senses through coffee beans
Let it break up the fogginess screen
For if you don't I will let out a piercing scream
Not a morning person whatsoever! When people who are too hyper start conversations with me early in the morning it irritates me to no end! Good morning to all anyway! :)
Connor Oct 2018
The sound of your soft breaths as you sleep,
Your sweet aroma filling my lungs.
The texture of the blanket as I stand up,
Look at how perfectly messy your hair looks,
And go to rid myself of the taste of sleep.
A good night's rest tastes revolting.
EP Robles Sep 2018
I mouthed the morning,
and dew and petal!

I ate the soil but not
the bee but even thorn!

I saw the gnome  
inside a root of tree!

I kissed his conical hat
and kissed his feet!

This I did all before
but never within my sleep!

:: 08-26-2014 ::
nature, imagination, dreams, reality, love
Josh G Sep 2018
These eyes are weighted
Offering peace to this fight
Sleep sweeps me away
Glenn Currier Sep 2018
By the end of next month
the hummingbirds will be gone
and I’ll have to find other wildness
to bring that tiny measure of joy
to my mornings.
Emma Aug 2018
Mornings
Are like sitting in
A dew-dropped sunrise.
Everything is fresh,
And new,
And glowing.

I love
To just sit
And exist in the morning sunrise.
I love to feel it’s warm
And loving embrace
Surround my lifeless body.

The beautiful melodies
Of the sweetly singing sparrows,
The elegant beauty of the summer hue
And the bustle of the breeze
Remind me of a place I once called home.

As I sit in the dewy morn,
I remember what was once home,
Where my cold and empty bones once laid to rest.
A place filled with comfort and hope
Long since drowned in tears and fear.

I love to watch the sun rise.
It reminds my silent heart of what once was.
But, I know that come sunset
My soul will once more return to its darkness.
She sits by the banks of my slaving heart
tossing hair and teasing the breeze,
while my tender achings gather course
through her fingers, like a winding stream...

She tells, then she laughs a hearty one
yet my envy finds her company good.
Her husky voice worms into my head
like a desire awaken in unending loop...

She opens the door and in a rush,
the hinges turn loose on my guarded longings
As I piece together my dark remains,
in she walks and makes my mornings.
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