My Morning

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My Morning

Dawn’s no mistress

An even poorer seductress

‘Tis not hers to blame

Few souls are out for her to aim

Sometimes she’s foiled by mountains

Mostly it’s soft cushions and lace curtains

Warm hugs and comforts

Restrain her more able consorts

Her golden aura a secret remains

Few have strength to take the reigns

Their will sucked dry by easy life

Virgin rays sans host, light their own arrive

The quiet silence gains the most

As nature treats her first the best

Affirms all sense of equity

Leaving morning, my morning, unspoiled for me.

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