Morning is my time,
Why hello there, Sweet Sunshine
Blossoming against the windowpane
Come meet your day
Its insistent rays make my eyes open
Birds are chirping
Tasks are lurking
Hours stretch ahead
For now, and evermore
I aim to keep this smile you bore
At me, my forever treasure, as I make the coffee
by morgan 8.22.18
Good night, sweet night, loving night
Sweeps the landscape
Dark and draping, looming and glowing
A blanket of dreams
Softens the harshest of light,
Promises of better
When you awake
I imagine us being tucked in by Mother Earth
Candescent against the back drop,
The stars can be seen,
Flirting with the eye,
Now you see me or perhaps not, they twinkle
In their code of dust and memories
When we dream, where do we go?
I imagine us up there, with the stars
Because why else are we told to
Shoot for the Stars!
If we were not already en route?
Rainbows are supposed to make the storm worth it.
They symbolize so much throughout our everyday,
but I could maybe count the number I’ve seen in person,
How do I gather the strength then, to look for the rainbow
When its appearance feels fickle at best?
A trick of the eyes with the water, the right variables needed in the air,
to cause the combination of colors to become visible.
I have to trust the warmth of the sun,
And the persistence of the raindrops
I have to accept the clouds and all they carry, and then, maybe,
I can be blessed with the Perfect Storm
resulting in the rainbow, a reminder of hope in a gloomy day.
I realized I weathered my own uproar before the light shined on you,
making you the new center of my solar system,
trusting the elements of Fate to rearrange the cosmos,
and bend my course to you.
When I open up the door to you,
I enter into warmth
And close the door to the outside.
We can exist in a bubble of our own creation.
Yet, we forget, that bubbles burst.
The bubble gets too far from its launching point,
Succumbing to elements.
So we return nightly to our homes found in each other’s arms.
Crafted so carefully to be welcoming and protective,
Never allowing it to turn to smothering.
Like a bubble, we could pop or maybe
Go with the wind too far down the rabbit hole.
Instead, we are the rainbow in the bubble,
bending & reshaping.
Love Poems for an Existential Crisis- by morgan
When I fell in love with you,
My body knew first.
My heart went sort of like beat, tap, beat
every time my eyes took you in
and flipped you upside down and right side up
in the back of my brain.
The rhythm of my sleep became relaxed,
And I could only be warmed
By your heat.
Science you say, love I say.
Was it science that put you
Before my eyes?
It was science that kissed me so?
Science might react, but circumstances are ever-changing…
Nay, I rebuke this notion that my body knew first.
Because even if your touch made my heart go
tip, tap, beat
I let you in the door, using my feet
That I firmly planted.