Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
ralph-e-peckPoems
The warmth of the morning, with just its cold chill, Can send the essence of the dark night, whistling In the background, and making its waves, and tearing up its minds Off speeding into the darkness it leaves behind in all its cold terror, Letting the wicked and the injured inside, collapse and follow it, As the days foreshadow beings to set in, touching the walls around us Its grace and registration of a new day settling in, in unencumbered Gripping making the new time, this new time, a complete release. See the shadows of the darkness as they move so quickly, yet slowly through, Hear the stillness as it begins to warm, and the floor begins to make Popping noises, as the water heats and steams and comforts the room, It can be felt, it can be touched, it can be the presence of the daytime Floating over, bringing sunshine, bringing joy, and near fulfillment, As the darkness of the night, recedes, for now, into the holes it is kept in, Until the sun begins its flow, to the darkness. Pray only for the moon.
0
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 9:15 AM UTC
The Morning Comes
The warmth of the morning, with just its cold chill, Can send the essence of the dark night, whistling In the background, and making its waves, and tearing up its minds Off speeding into the darkness it leaves behind in all its cold terror, Letting the wicked and the injured inside, collapse and follow it, As the days foreshadow beings to set in, touching the walls around us Its grace and registration of a new day settling in, in unencumbered Gripping making the new time, this new time, a complete release. See the shadows of the darkness as they move so quickly, yet slowly through, Hear the stillness as it begins to warm, and the floor begins to make Popping noises, as the water heats and steams and comforts the room, It can be felt, it can be touched, it can be the presence of the daytime Floating over, bringing sunshine, bringing joy, and near fulfillment, As the darkness of the night, recedes, for now, into the holes it is kept in, Until the sun begins its flow, to the darkness. Pray only for the moon.
ralph-e-peck
Written by
ralph-e-peck
60/M/American
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 9:15 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem