The morning sun sits on the hill
A shadowed arc with shining spill
when most arise to greet the day
I know the day my sleep will kill
Beneath the sheets, to sleep I'll go
The curtains cloud the sun's sweet glow
I wish I would wake with sun's ray
for in the dark, my soul will snow
When bubbling brightness touches clay
When rainbows rise in water's spray
Fatigue will bolt my body down
I hope my dreams will wake and pray
The luster of the sun can't lave
the blackness in my dreaming cave
My path, I hope the light can pave
My soul, I hope the sun will save
I do understand the discrepancies in the rhyming pattern.
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Poems
PoetryI'm no poet. I am not a fan of poetry. But sometimes you have those poems in the back of your head, the poems that can sum up your feelings. Sometimes you have poems that don't describe anything, but just came out as a beautiful cluster of words...
