Morning Poems | Examples of Morning Poetry

In dawn's hushed oozy mist truths seem soft and gentle so unsure of themselves they become blurred shapeless with no hold, knurl or grip to bring into focus...

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But not the interminably hopeless daddy longlegs some say cellar spiders also know as the cranefly lurking amidst the shower curtain then flapping wildly all around my hat just not first thing on a Monday morning when stark staring and uncoffeed thus it must be duly despatched with an implement humanely and meanwhile the water's spraying in all directions Later on leaving my nosy neighbour...

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pillow next to me in the gleam of sunrise without a wrinkle...

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Her warm breath fogs the pane. She draws a mis-ty veil. Footsteps fade like lost ghosts. Her voice melts in the rain. Dreams ache inside her chest. Hope hums of might-have-been. Contest: SOME KIND OF MISTY Poetry Contest Sponsor: Nette Onclaud Date: July 5, 2025...

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Some gates are closed, others are open I passed them all I lived inside The postcard views where as a postman I brought your package every night Check your emails if there’s a new Stifting a yawn you find the one In haste you almost read it through Replying with a glint of sun Meanwhile the coffee smells of morning You open up...

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(A subaltern dawn song...) We rise before the rooster cries, Before the sky begins to blush, Before the bosses sip their tea, We sweep the silence with a hush. The city sleeps in dreams of glass, We move like whispers through its veins With a broom, a bucket and barefoot grace, Erasing footprints made of stains. The milkman’s cycle hums its tune, His bell rings...

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As stars close their tired eyes and darkness fades the day they slip slowly out of sight yesterday's no more in play say goodbye to a watercolour sky the rain washed away O say can you see morning has broken raising the curtain to curtail night daily they do it that way before we've woken and all the king's horses and all the king's...

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The white ones glisten in a beaded sweat of sleep, exposed in beds of ruffled, scented petals as if this falling into sleep had been a struggling against the night’s inducement, requiring great effort. Now morning has arrived with its cool, gentle light to awaken these roses to yet another day or two. But they sleep too soundly, perhaps still indulging in amorous dreams of the night...

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morning light through window a song heard in my dream lingers living beyond time birds outside my window sing I hear the voice of angels a conversation with a friend I showed her a poem she read between the lines silence said more the words a beginning perhaps silence said more than words she read between the lines I showed her a poem a conversation with a friend I...

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choppy and cold river, white foam is gathering as if it has been in a blender there is no sound this morning, no bird speak, no crickets, it is silent I dipped my hand into the water, it was freezing like a frozen halibut. A peanut butter cup made its way to my mouth, I tasted salt and...

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The sun's flirtatious wink woke me at dawn I smiled, lazily stretched, and stifled a yawn I was teased by the touch of his warm hand The power of his refulgent torch, I understand His golden majesty then rose to brighten the skies greeting the morning in such a grandiose reprise ...

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The black depths of a coffee beckon the mind into a bottomless gaze - you stir and feel yourself swirl in a dizzying haze and hope you will slowly dissolve into nothing at all. But somehow you manage to hold, grab the edges, survive another close call. ...

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Why do I love you, dreamer born from the morning mist that rises to the sky, Who coils around my chest like blue smoke, like a vine, Embracing my temples with your gentle touch like a boundless sea, Why do I love you, delicate woman, like a blade of grass that cuts the moon in halves, Letting it sink...

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On a silver morning, when the sky drips its light over dreams, the poet walks the path of art, a road of stars woven with whispers, where sages shake hands with shadows, and the soul becomes a harp of wind, singing of infinity and hearts that open like flowers under the sun. It is a silent symphony of desires,...

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my crescent moon whispers softly as dusk fades to dawn and a soft mist settles the morning rolling in AP: Honorable Meniton 2025 Submitted on June 26, 2025 for contest 1393 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - Honorable Mention...

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