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when i was writing of waking

in the morning, when i shake off the dreams, and what was once an imagining. well there i rest a new found smile. there i wait just awhile, scrunching away the sleep. staring into a brand new day. lithe in motion, a form in a whirl, here and there, the morning ritual. so i wake, to take on the morn. so i wake to wondrous joy.

This was written by tanner. Posted on Wednesday, November 7, 2007, at 11:43 am. Filed under narratives. Bookmark the permalink. Follow comments here with the RSS feed. Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.