morning

A kiss is the morning dew which stand up. (Un baiser, c'est la rosée - Du matin qui s'est levé)

Every morning the first thing I do is serve my husband a bowl full of praises. More then his stomach I try to keep his ego full.

The stars were going out now, one by one, dropping like pennies behind the television aerials and the skylights and the washing strung between the chimneys. The sky was still dark - a sated, navy-blue woman - but the grass was jittery with the expectation of dawn.

I wish I had a brush that could paint the whole sky and turn every morning into night. I wish I could always sleep next to you in the never ending night and hold your hand, watching the reflection of all the stars in your eyes, while you smile and watch them in the sky with wonder.

When you wake up each morning, remember to live as though it were your last day on earth, because you never know if it's going to be.

If from morning to night we just took care of one thing after another, thoroughly and completely and without accompanying thoughts, such as ____ a good person for doing this_ or __sn__ it wonderful, that I can take care of everything?,_ then that would be sufficient.

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my lifefor our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul.

Nature awakens each day in brilliant autumn colors, making me wish the pale winter would bid adieu.

If you're lucky enough to finda girl who is a hopeless romanticwith a dirty mind,you should hold onto that.Because she'll be yours attwo in the morning, and at two in the afternoonthe following day.She'll kiss you where it hurts,and until it hurts.and that's important.Someone who not only knowshow to turn you on,but also knows how to treat you rightis someone worth a little something.

As we walk back, it feels like the city is engulfing us. Adrenalin still pours through our veins. Sparks flow through to our fingers. We've still been running in the mornings, but the city's different then. It's filled with hope and with bristles of winter sunshine. In the evening, it's like it dies, waiting to be born again the next morning.

The morning was full of sunlight and hope.

The world was different in the morning. Quiet, unassuming, and somehow bigger, as if it was brimming with possibility. It was, she thought, as if during the day the world went through a shrinking process, gradually condensing the morning__ expansion, only to inflate again during the night

Dawn and its excesses always reminded me of heaven, a place where I have always known I would not be comfortable.

When you rise in the morning, form a resolution to make the day a happy one for a fellow creature.

The morning was a wretched time of day for him. He feared it and it never brought him any good. On no morning of his life had he ever been in good spirits nor done any good before midday, nor ever had a happy idea, nor devised any pleasure for himself or others. By degrees during the afternoon he warmed and became alive, and only towards evening, on his good days, was he productive active and sometimes, aglow with joy.

...careful the morning lest it wake from slumber the city half-encumbered by the morning mist ...

...at morning, I'm unruffled - I'll sit with my tea and Muse Cat beside me and listen to the soft chime of the grandfather clock...

some poems frothand foam and rise...out of my morning cup ofmist-sweetened coffee.