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A few little guys Blue eyes-
A sparkle of frost,
It should be cold,
It’s not.
The ocean current,
It ought to be dangerous,
Sometimes, it is.
The unadulterated sky,
Calm and beautiful
It’s pure.
Morning time.
Morning eyes- still too lazy to greet the day,
A warmth permeates the bed-the cold punishing any who try to escape,
The blanket is protection-from the trials of the day to come,
Your lips are soft, as your body is warm,
There are many reasons to love a morning,
But mostly there is you.
-Untitled-
It is loud and triumphant
Today I bathe in it.
It is drawn, waning and slow,
Today I wallow in it.
It is quiet, subdued, tranquil,
Today I sleep though it.
It is brittle, sharp and piercing,
Today I cannot take it.
It is something I love and hate,
It is the music of each day
