the morning spills like
honeyed gold,
a whispered warmth the
night can’t hold.
Its light, a painter’s tender hand,
brushes life awake across the land

The sky, a symphony’s
first chord,
where dreams and daylight
walk accord
The breeze, a lover’s
softest sigh,
Stirs whispers through the
waking sky.

Each dewdrop sings a
tiny sun,
a fleeting spark ‘til day’s
begun
Oh, morning, balm for
weary eyes.
Your beauty humbles,
sanctifies

In you, the world begins
anew,
a love note scrawled in
light and dew