Each day I arise early
And have that special time of mine.
I go downstairs,
Put on the radio and listen,
Listen to music.
I sit at my computer,
Read poems from others.
Then I write,
Write the words from within.
The words that come to me,
Come to me from many places.
It could be from love,
The love I have for my lady,
The love I have for life,
Or even the love for all.
Those words may be from other places.
The things I have seen,
Both sad and happy,
Funny and miserable.
But this time in the morning,
Is mine,
And always has been.
So each day I rise early
And have that special time of mine.