#poetry-writing

The night was blue, the surf; a similar hue. Light reflecting down from the clouds, high enough To still be lit by the sun. Night, creeping over the horizon, brings the world Surcease. The Greeks envisioned

Morning arrives; awareness comes in waves. Dimly remembered dream images are washed away. Now, Freshness for the day, follows, though at times The climbing may be steep. Eyes open, heart as well, you make