The plane of my life used to fly so smooth
You came aboard and the higher I flew.
You took me to places I'd never been before,
I wanted to have you till I could fly no more.
We might have just hit a turbulent cloud
But It can't shake my mind off you.
My brain is turning to stone, and thinking is getting hard.
The silence is hungry, and it gnaws at my heart.
But when I hear your 'Goodmorning! '
When I see your smile sweet,
The sun comes out from behind rain clouds pouring.
It lightens up my dark, so
Even the night burns brightly.
The world is my lamb chop,
And I'm kinda hungry.
Now, the sun soars across the waves
When before, it was drowning.
What was once a sad night
Has become a beautiful morning.
Yet wouldn't time have still trickled, had we not conversed?
The sun risen on its own accord?
Well yes, Dawn brings the morning,
You make it Good.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Goodmorning by Andrew Lee )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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