Beautiful is the Morning


I sit at the table; fork in hands.

Coffee so bold, it shakes where it stands.

I sit at the table, but not on it sides.

The middle beckons, where it evenly divides.

I sit at the table, indulged in the awakened.

Beautiful is the morning, and scrumptious is the bacon.

I sit at the table, with a head full of thanks.


For the light anew, to be quite frank.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A lovely morning...the little things that make you feel so small yet so grand.

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workm's picture

Love it.. Fun..

Love it.. Fun..