deepundergroundpoetry.com

Mornings

Listen to the whispers of trees  
And gentle peeping of the sunrise  
Through dancing curtains
Reaching our pillows.  
 
I wake up  
To the softness of your breath  
Tickling my ear  
Tickling my heart  
 
Wiping sand off your eyes,  
Cherishing the wrinkle of your nose  
You smile at me  
In the good of morning  
 
And I know just who you are  
When suddenly the room  
Any room at all  
Becomes home.  
 
Written by EmptyTree
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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