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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.
Jaira Anicete Jul 2018
Sometimes,
I wanna wake up
to a view –
Opening my eyes up
before you.
Mornings will be good indeed,
My sunshine.
Bruce Levine Jul 2018
I sit on the porch in the early morning
And watch the world.
I watch the birds and squirrels awaken.
I watch the sun slowly drift
Across the lawn;
Casting a golden light
And drying the dew.
I watch people jogging
And getting ready for work.
I watch a woman as she walks,
Outlining the perimeter of every parking space
And I wonder – why?
I watch as people start their cars,
Pull out and head off.
Where are they going –?
To work?
To play?
To start another day.
jai Jun 2018
some mornings i wake up, and getting out of bed that day takes normal effort.
other mornings i’m unable to keep my eyes closed because my brain spent all night coming up with new ideas, so the second the sun hits my face, my feet are on the ground running.
the mornings where sleep was my friend the night before are the hardest, though. when sleep fogs my brain, eight hours is a fraction of the amount of time it is willing to accept, and those morning are spent fading in and out from sudden noise, and rude awakening attempts, and the moment i decide to give up on sleep, is the moment i give up on the day in its entirety.
i was crying on the back porch when i wrote this, after being woken up for the 4th time that morning by my mother. i’m sure she didn’t understand that prior to that night, i hadn’t slept in almost 4 days... my mania was not her fault, yet i put all the blame on her that morning.
Yule Jun 2018
The sound of the pouring rain from the roof woke me up.

I got myself a chair in the patio of our house. I sat there comfortably, sitting in silence for a good whole minute.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the pouring rain immerse into me. Imagining myself getting soaked, as if I really am in the middle of the pouring rain, drenched, and laughing carefree in the distance.

"Being outside is nice huh?" I heard a pleasant voice behind me. I let my eyes stay closed for a moment, letting the cold wind meet my face to wake me up. I also welcomed his words, nodding at him with acknowledgement. I was then met with a chocolatey steam; he prepared us two cups of hot cocoa.

"Figured you're a bit cold." His voice sounded raspy, sleepiness still evident in his tone. I turn to him as he got himself another chair close to mine. He looks up a bit, seeping the rain onto his porcelain-like skin. He doesn't go out that much to get some sunshine as to why.

I hummed absentmindedly, warming up to his presence. There was a small smile across his lips, his eyes warmer than the hot drinks he have at hand.

I mirrored his smile, getting my cup from him.

"I kinda like the cold feeling but I wouldn't want to waste your effort." A chuckle escaped my lips, and his crescent-like smile appeared before me.

He drank from his cup as I sipped on mine, letting the vibe from around me flood my senses.

I love these little instances he would think of me. Slipping a thought into his tasks, gestures that show that he does take effort in remembering things I love. Like how I prefer hot chocolate over tea in rainy days, and how I love seeing his smile on early mornings. Even as he loathes waking up and moving off the bed so early. Oh how I love this man before me.

And we sat there in silence, side by side, letting the sky pour out its rain. Our cups at hand, the aroma of the cocoa steam over our senses, full to little to none, with the cold wind howling a bit in the distance.

This went on for an hour or so; I still couldn’t wrap around the idea of how much I love these instances. I had always found comfort in him between our silences and exchanges of glances. Just in him in general; he’s my blanket, my safety— the personification of home. My umbrella; my shade to my blazing sunny days and cover to cold rainy days. I looked over his broad figure from the back, I sigh in contentment.

And as if he heard the drizzle in my heart, he gave me a faint smile; a radiance just enough to soften the hues all around us. But just enough that he stands out amongst the drizzling rain over the sunlight peeking through the clouds.

I could see the raindrops wash over the dewiness of his skin, and it looks like it's starting to show signs of stopping. But I just want to stay, stay out here a bit longer.
The rain is still pouring hard outside.| 180609; 9:23 am

//  If I were asked what paradise would look like. This would be it.

{nj.b}
Lily Jun 2018
Look out and see
an ascending sun;

Her light dances
upon frosty blades of grass
in early morning;
as dawn breaks
and fog parts.

Surrendering,
to a fleeting warmth.

A valley where once was a heart,
now lives only light.
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