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More Poet's Place Poems and Related Poems |
Morning Song I am a morning person I wake up at dawn Drink a cup or two Of snarling black coffee Fully loaded with bodacious spices Kicking starting my morning, I watch the morning news Writing in my journals Writing down my dreams And my fears. As the sun comes up Blasting me away With the morning light. My wife enters the room Her smile mesmerizing me Sending my lingering nightmares And blues back to Hell. as she has done every day for the last 42 years. I say to myself Today will be a great day As long as I have her by my side. The Morningsong is a thematic form based upon the promise of a new day with the structure left entirely up to the poet, as demonstrated in the following links: https://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/topic/685-alba-or-aubade-mornings-song-matins-r... • Morningsong or Matins (Latin), a little older than the French morning songs, are formal lyrical prayers sung at dawn. This is the counterpart to the liturgical Evensong or Vespers. The tone is hopeful. The frame is at the discretion of the poet. Dedication by Judi Van Gorder This day the sun will rise on a new intent Choices, may they be wise, my life is leant. To bring to each a smile, do one good deed Take time to pray awhile Your words I'll heed. https://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=4397 Morning Song by Eugene Field Next The eastern sky is streaked with red, The weary night is done, And from his distant ocean bed Rolls up the morning sun. The dew, like tiny silver beads Bespread o'er velvet green, Is scattered on the wakeful meads By angel hands unseen. "Good-morrow, robin in the trees!" The star-eyed daisy cries; "Good-morrow," sings the morning breeze Unto the ruddy skies; "Good-morrow, every living thing!" Kind Nature seems to say, And all her works devoutly sing A hymn to birth of day, So, haste, without delay, Haste, fairy friends, on silver wing, And to your homes away! This poem is in the public domain. At a Jazz Bar in Denver with My Son and His Friends, I Learn Something New by Mary Jo Balistreri I sit and listen in the midst of my son's crowd, speak a bouncy banter. We kill time with the Simpsons before David plays jazz. In jeans and casual jackets, we drink Coors, check the wind-tossed sky, the flash of lightning, hoping in spite of the weather, a crowd will pour through the door. After a while, I hear a shift of tone, a carefulness I hadn't noticed before. In a conversation of augmented fifths and ninths, the friends address me in safe thirds. I listen more carefully. Where is the cutting edge, the forward motion? We converse in C major, squarely metered. I sit back stunned. The lack of dissonance strikes a new chord. When did Youth leave me and move on? I adjust my position on the barstool, lean into her absence, wonder how I never saw her go. From Joy in the Morning (Bellowing Ark Press, 2008) © Mary Jo Balistreri Used with the author's permission https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/morning-song-21/ Morning Song Take it from here the silver night moon round Only to end at the light shivered sound Of the peep and the tweet greening fade mist Morning quietude; peremptory kiss To the sully of poachers and poochers alike In the glade grassy dropp of the dew, sun strikes On a slip of the morning in the forest now Without asking time or anyone how Woken once with the air fluttering blue day And the moving shine of the dream thrust away From the limping flash to the bright churling chime Of the peevishly prancing morning time Resplendent in streaks of trilling song tune With morning birth lasting until the noon. William B. Deutscher |
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