morning

Waking Up

~

Waking up’s the best time of day.

What will I wear, what will I play?

It’s time to think of things to do.

First find my pants and missing shoe.

~

Wipe from my eyes the sleeps last trace.

I’ll brush my teeth, wash hands and face.

My bed’s made, teddy’s on pillow,

But one last hug before I go.

~

To the kitchen, mom will be there,

Making breakfast for us to share.

We chat about things to be done,

Some of it work, some of it fun.

~

Finish dressing put dreams away.

It’s time to start a brand new day.

That’s why waking up is the best.

But can’t do that without your rest.

~

The End

*

Sck092114

Sun Awakens

Rhymesalot's avatarrhymesalot

Victorious star the moons plight

Peaking from the blanket of night

Blank sheets warmly beckon askew

Water boils, beans grind, minds brew

Sheets fill blank to dark with light

*

Air surrounds all with bright

Life returns to deadened street

Sound returns to lively feet

Sun awakens to night’s sleep

Darkness shallow, day is deep

~

Sck102214

View original post

Time Will Come

Morning’s meant for mourning.

Day’s meant for life.

Evening’s time for rest,

ending the days strife.

~

Morning is time to ponder.

Day is time to do.

Night’s for reflection,

when no one’s watching you.

~

Mornings are the start.

They make the day brand new.

Good or bad, darkness comes,

another chance for moons of blue.

~*~

Sck080615

Pens versus Cages

I woke up dreading my pen today

Everything’s good, I’ve nothing to say

The sky is blue, the grass is green

Prettiest day I’ve ever seen

*

I’m sure if I try I could bum myself out

I could yell and scream and swear and shout

I could read the news, that’ll do it, no doubt

I could stare at the floor and see it needs grout

*

I could stare in the mirror and discover new spots

The closer you look you’ll find lots and lots

Or ignore everything just a little bit longer

Postponing these pressures until I’m stronger

~*~

Sck062515

Pastel Poetry Please

The pallete overflows

Colors no-one knows

A spectrum of hues

Whatever I choose

But the grays get in the way

 ~

Wheels of color roll on the ground

Colors don’t matter if wheels ain’t round

Drawing time from sketchy books

Gradient defines good, shady or crooks

And the grays all have a say

~

Canvas pure, time no-more

Palletes bare, nothing to share

Thinking of more, brushes galore

Morning’s bright till dark of night

Yet the grays still paint my day

 ~

Sck021215

Morning Triku #59

The Hunger Haiku’s

 *

Drips End

 .

Precious little bean

Sweet with cream dream, water pure

Hot tonic to cure

~

Scrambled Emotions

 .

Warm and firm to touch

Smooth curves conform in cold hands

Crack, beat add to heat

~

Lustful Awakening

 .

Its length is lovely

Its girth is great – Goooood Morning!

Sausage on my plate

*

Sck020115

Mourning’s Time  

Mornings lost to mourning

Day’s lost to night

Night’s lost in darkness

Darkness longs for light

`

Sleepless nights, hopeless days

Hopeful nights, time slight

Day’s lost in hands-of-time

Time  wins times fight

`

Fists hide mourning’s face

Gentle hands, mornings bright

Night stars light mourned

Suns rise, all’s right

`

Nights fall, mourning ends

Faces shine ending fright

Mourning put to rest

Day returns to sight

`

Sck102314

New Day

When life adds lemons to salty tears,

One can blend with Tequila, slug a few beers.

These ades to aid will quench our cares,

Peeling the rind of all our fears.

*

But mornings return, suns will rise,

Burning fog in heads and eyes.

A cure’s not a cure if demise.

Perhaps today lemonade’s wise.

*

The End

~

Sck101714