Good Morning

Mornings

With the shining and bright beams of the sun, birds sing a song of fun

And how the deer eat of the forest, their mouths full of green grass.

The rays, waking me from sleep, show a brilliance which drive me to leap

From my bed and covers to reap the harvest of a good day.

I tear out of my covers to take hold of this noble day.

All this is done in this way.

But, often the sun shines not, and the birds seem like they’re all caught,

And deer graze without the ecstasy of the temperate sun.

I sleep in my bed and covers, oblivious to the wonders,

And dream on while committing the grievous blunders to the day.

I dream on, unable to seize all the greatness of this day.

Can I redeem this sad way?