Mornings...
of warming sun, anticipation
of a new day born, the sky adorned
with the whitest clouds, made of perfection,
revolve over the awakening house

Mornings...
rebounding blissfully, as with weary eyes,
I stare peacefully, at the unfolding skies,
allow the light, dig down your fears
your emotions it steers

Mornings...
made up of hopes, of blooming smiles,
of rising dreams, my young heart pleas,
for climbing ropes, for a heart that thrives,
at the touch of love

Mornings...
Recall those times, of moments unique,
No rhymes to describe, that special brick,
in my wall of life, which you take part,
seems not enough, you still claim my heart

Mornings...
Do they begin with sunrise?
Under the infinite darkness, you are the sun of my eyes
Beginings shine, above the stars they gleam
Has morning arrived, or is it just a dream?