Learn more about other poetry terms
The egg on the skillet asks you for more salt You do this without hesitation The salt releases a bit more joy then you'd like But you like joy and joy likes you You always wished for more of it
Each morning she grants me the unique privilege of providing a smile on her face I know quite a bit about the simple things. To watch her walk in and delight herself with the croissant of open lips
Dear Coffee, You are the start of my mornings, the end to my evening slumps. Sometimes you come with sugar and cream, sometimes you do not.
Jay seems like a monster in the morning Angry about having to leave his bed Yet once he has his coffee a change happens Relaxation, relief and more awake than before
I wake up and feel the sun burning straight into my room I know that my morning haze will loom but with the encouragment breakfast gives me I am able to be the best I can be!
Steam rising slowly from black peppered fluffy pale yellow. Heat rising from the flat surface. Long strips of crisp red and brown. Short stubs of meat linked together.
I like going to breakfast without brushing my hair and going to breakfast still in my pajamas. Hair-- a mess. Piled on the top of my head. I like watching the news while eating my cereal.
On a Saturday morning, I wake at nine, My stomach growls and I'm ready to dine, I smell the breakfast in the air, The smell is pleasent, but first, a prayer, I close my eyes and bow my head,
In the morning light A Poem by Larry Cruikshank
“Stir yourself! Awake! Arise! Blissful slumbers, fall away! Cast old Nocturne from your eyes, ‘Tis the brink of glorious Day!” This is what my Mother speaks,
Breakfast, lunch, dinner. The most important thing is, Eat the right amount.
Sacrifice a pleasant morning For a fucked up night? I think no but it's nice to have your share of afternoon delights strictly Starland- I don't get the concept of
Vanilla cream curdles in blackberry tea; I didn't know. Dish soap suds, scented With childhood and artificial lemon, Sting my hands, Chapped, graceless. I shaved a sliver from my thumb with a paring knife