so love me some of those early
morning gifts of the gods . . .
the sun leaking in my windows,
the first bird chirpings, the odd
flutter of a butterfly, the turning
over in bed for a snuggle . . .
and that wondrous promise of a
new day, new beginnings, new
opportunities, even new failings
. . . and yes, the chance to begin
again on the morrow. I adore old.
If it's not at least 120 years old,
I'm not interested . . . but still,
those new early mornings are
indeed without par!
needing me some new
promise of another day
hope for we naughties
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