More Poet's Place Poems

Morning Song

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