Treasure Island

L C Vieira

(Lisbon, Portugal)

Morning Gifts


Cold rain pounds at the window
blurring branches in the wind.

I slowly wake,
words
forming in my lashes
calling back
my tired pen.

A new bird stirs me
as I slip
beneath the light
of gifts,

the Morning Star
and His new day.

Submitted: Monday, April 01, 2013
Edited: Friday, July 26, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Early Easter Morning

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