The Morning Light
Shall Return... again and again...
The poorest of poets knew that he was returning to a theme he had used before,
But he didn’t care,
He couldn’t help himself.
This morning the light was so bright,
it shone through his eye lids,
and flooded straight into his soul.
Though today she was far away,
He reached for the keyboard and started to type,
He just loved her so much.
