The dark mornings are here,
I creep slowly down stairs
In the morning of night,
Artificial light ignored.
I sit here in the dark,
Only the light of this page
Showing me the way,
The way to words,
To read them,
And to write them.
The darkness surrounds me,
Comforts me like a friend.
The dawn slowly rises behind me
And once more I can see,
See beyond this page,
But I keep on being drawn back,
Back to this page,
Until the words stop.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 25th, 2017 01:40
- Comment from author about the poem: In these darkening mornings I do not put any lights on but sit in the dark reading and writing on my laptop. Music is always with me, as are your and my words.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 65
Offline)
Comments8
A fine write G/F. I tried the same thing, but fell over the cat in the dark! heehee.
The cat should have got out of the way!
Could have done with a cat to lap up the spilt milk this morning - not that I like cats I hasten to add. Great write Andy
3 more comments
Beautiful perspective into your work, GF! Very nice! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you Christina. Most kind.
I like this look into your morning , good poem
Thank you WL, we each have special times which are our own times.
"Until the words stop", I know this compulsion of which you speak, Goldie. Thanks for sharing your special time.
Thank you Louis, much appreciated.
Nice writing Gold. Is it cold yet?
Thank you Malu, it is not cold yet, mind you I do not feel the cold, I still wear short sleeved shirts in the winter.
Goldfinch, I love your poem, and I think I need to try this as well. Your whole attention focused on the screen, no distractions (unless of course, you decide to surf a little bit to get some inspiration! 🙂 ).
Thank you Fred, the dark mornings can be inspiration enough on many occasions.
You do realise you're absent mindedly eating biscuits while its still dark don't you. Which reminds me of a poem i read someplace...
I've complimented you before about your amazing ability to create a great poem out of a moment all would overlook bar you. You've a keen mind for the everyday unusual/overlooked in the world around you. Pleasure to read, raises a smile.
Never let it be said that I would eat a biscuit before eight o' clock in the morning!
Thank you so much DA, it must be something about my strange mind, or maybe the many types of jazz I listen to.
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