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my mornig
Sunlight beams across the floor. Swinging by like an open door, striking upon the face i love. Waking me from my dreams above. Showering us in its golden bliss. Shining light, is there a spot you haven't missed? Sunny day don't fade away, i could lay here with him all day.
So Many Read
so few comments. There is a place reserved in poetry for the simply said, the prosaic connection to the emotional base of the reader who absorbs the message and says, "Yeah, that's what I feel, what I meant." As the form evolves, the profoundness of plain spokeness will become paramount. Word. Just Bein' Stella
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