I am never at my best in the early morning, especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells, finding its way inside my clothing, nipping at my nose and ears.
quote by James Herriot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning Cold Taxi
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
With lifes best side on the downward slope,
Its in my own hands, I know Ill cope,
My girls with me and all my friends can see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Done it before, do it again,
Know from experience its not in vain,
Shes the best Ive had, I cannot see, what someone else can do to me.
Its a long way home but loves so warm, youll see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A view of spring turning into summer (hybridanelle)
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
I was surrounded by heat like a cocoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
while the early morning breeze
kissed my cheek
with an early morning freeze
and there were clouds escaping from my mouth that I could see
evaporating like steam or gas from a balloon.
From the time that the first sun light hit me
some dust tickling my nose made me sneeze
and glorious bright rays
kissed my cheek,
buds opened on every plant and tree,
ants marched to and fro like in a platoon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
and I was experiencing days
of spring leading into summer
and glorious bright rays
and nature’s decree
summoning new seasons, made me feel like a tycoon
from the time that the first sunlight hit me
and the wind like a drummer
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
of spring leading into summer
and you my love, had to agree
that an awesome summer would be here soon
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
as if this freaky wind was blowing me along,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
sweeping through sand, leaves and branches whistling its song
and even you were in its spell and we
were both smitten with summer and spring that afternoon.
From the time that the first sunlight hit me
and I saw the clear blue sky and felt free
it was like standing on a high summit
while the early morning breeze,
turned part of me into nature and I saw it
with an early morning freeze.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Need For A New House....Or Home...
early morning
when the doors are still closed and the windows still tipsy
like the whole house
you fly away
the sun comes out with the clouds
early morning you fly away
away from it all
the clouds are floors and grasses
and you are a lonely bird among a flock of chairs
early morning you fly away
thinking about nothing
you fly away and you feel like a leaf inside
that gentle beast
it is a ride-awA Need For A New House....Or Home...ay
among the paradoxes of life
and its ironies
early morning there is this flight that takes you to a stop-over
of your life
no one knows that you are grieving
over a search for what you feel
the one you had which you lost
intentionally
among the flock of chairs landing early morning
on unstable floors
early morning you take a cab
you choose still
which house
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Morning
(pal waaktaar/ mags)
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
I see the lonely august sun arise
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
Im waiting the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Ran the whole way
Down to the tracks
Through the doorway, then a last look back
Say you know
You will
Save me like you do
Out on the fields...
Ive waited the whole night through
Early morning, early morning, yeah
I climbed all the stairways
To find the rooftop clear
Got the shotgun lying with me here
Say you know
You will
Move me like you do
Out on the fields...
You know how it feels, yeah
Early morning, early morning, yeah
Early morning
Eight oclock precise
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning Silence
Sitting in the early morning silence
that hasn’t filled with
the approaching days gloom.
That time when the mind
has a chance to run free.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
The intrusive world has not
invaded our space with idle chatter
from sources that surround us
making up our daily lives.
The early morning silence
we need to activate our mind.
You sit in the darkness
just before the dawn appears
enjoying the solitary that is temporary stillness
brings to your ears.
The early morning silence
when no one is around.
16 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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A Love That Does Not Die
early morning
how can birds be seen inside this room?
how can an agnostic be so definite about
the blueness of the skies?
early morning
there is no sun here
where i have sacrificed so much
about writing
and i think of you
because i have loved you
such thoughts
grow flowers in the fertile fields of my tongue
my eyes become suns
my ears twin mountains
from my palms birds nest and lay their egss
in my heart
another universe is born
inside this room
the door shall not be opened
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Christmas Morning
Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning
All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning
All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just March(ing) Along..
When Winter begins
to lose His touch
and his buddy Jack Frost
don't hang 'roun as much..
The days will be one day
all sunny and warm
then by morning wake up
to a winter snow storm
March isn't winter
spring, summer or fall.
March seems to be marching
into changing it all.....
March is a beginning.
March is a end.
Winters defeater (the spring time leader)
March is marching spring in...
poem by Connetta Jean
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Early in the Spring
Early in the spring
Not a leaf has struck the ground
The swallow has yet to sing
And the plowmen are no where to be found
Early in the spring
The forest stands still
And no creature dare come out
Before the sun rises o’er the hill
Early in the spring
The valley holds the morning dew
And its serenity may be captured
By only a certain few
Early in the spring
The trees turn, brown to green
Many changes occur
But few can be seen
Early in the spring
Or in the latter of fall
No matter the change of season
The evergreen stands tall
poem by James Kent
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Four Seasons In One Day
Yesterday it was twenty degrees or so
And this morning it feels cold enough to snow
But Melbourne weather known to be that way
The place you get four Seasons in one day.
In mid morning a heavy shower of rain
And then the warming sun shine out again
And later on the wind blow to a gale
Accompanied by heavy showers of hail.
And quick as the hail storm came it then subside
This Melbourne weather like Jekyll and Hyde
The morning fine could make a sunny day
But will it rain? how can one ever say.
In Melbourne in the early days of Spring
As weather goes you expect anything
The morning fine but take your hat and coat
As four seasons in one day it has been wrote.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sunday
He reached out and took my hand,
lingering warmth from the early morning
flowed between us.
Bird song piped and twittered.
Gentle spring sunshine
broke through the chill March wind.
By the edge of the canal
I placed one foot in front of the other
and my heart smiled.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Early Mornin Rain
In the early morning rain
With a dollar in my hand
With an achin in my heart
And my pockets full of sand
Im a long way from home
And I miss my loved ones so
In the early morning rain
With no place to go
Out on runway number nine
Big seven-o-seven set to go
But Im stuck here in the grass
Where the cold wind blows
Now the liquor tasted good
And the women all were fast
Well there she goes my friend
Well shes rollin down at last
Hear the mighty engines roar
See the silver bird on high
Shes away and westward bound
Far above the clouds shell fly
Where the mornin rain dont fall
And the sun always shines
Shell be flyin oer my home
In about three hours time
This old airports got me down
Its no earthly good to me
cause Im stuck here on the ground
As cold and drunk as I can be
You cant jump a jet plane
Like you can a freight train
So Id best be on my way
In the early morning rain
You cant jump a jet plane
Like you can a freight train
So Id best be on my way
In the early morning rain
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I paint on a sky
The dawn is breaking its early morn
Here, I m standing on a promise
of a brand new day
for new morning comes.
for the early morning smile,
So then, I paint on a sky.
Your eyes that shine like a golden sun.
I sense the morning glory.
Those cherry blossoms
That I paint on my mind.
As I heard the morning breeze,
That plays inside of me.
The notes and melodies
Were I paint on a sky
Over there beneath the silence
I watched the sea that dance on a wave,
And then I draw a line on sand
A line that connects my soul on wind
There I can dance to the music of my own
There I can paint on a sky.
Every step that I have been through.
I belong to the wind.
To fly higher than the mountain
Fly as free as the bird.
Then, I paint on a sky.
These dreams inside my mind,
These hope that I have been holding on
These love that last for more than time.
I walked on a bridge of the rainbow
I’ll be the sun in the sky.
I’ll be the light in all time
I’ll put back the blue in the sky
And learn to see the beauty that is waiting for
So then, I paint on a sky
All the happiness that brings back in my heart.
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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Good Morning
In my good good morning
Im up before the sun can bring,
Early morning, and everyone
Like a shiny thing.
All my angels appear
Before my window saying
Good morning
In my good morning
In my good, good morning
I feel before my thoughts all spring.
Am I conscious or
Is this my unconscious being
No more like a dream than a
God before my conscious saying
Good morning in my good morning?
In my good, good morning
Im up before the sun can bring,
Early morining, and everyone like a shiny
Thing.
No more like a dream, then a God before
My conscious saying
Good morning in my good morning.
song performed by by Dandy Warhols
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning Rain
In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand
With an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand
I'm a long way from home and I miss my loved one so
In the early morning rain with no place to go
Out on runway number nine big 707 set to go
But I'm stuck here on the grass where the cold winds they do blow
And where whiskey was and bars and the women they were fine
There she goes my friend, she rolling down at last
Here the mighty engines roar, see the silver bird on high
She's away and westward bound, far above the clouds she'll fly
There the morning rain don't fall and the sun always shines
She'll be flying over my home in about three hours time
This old airport's got me down it ain't no earthy good to me
Because I'm stuck here on the ground, cold and drunk as I can be
You can't hop a jet plane like you can a railroad train
So I'd best be on my way in the early morning rain
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter: My Secret
I tell my secret? No indeed, not I:
Perhaps some day, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows,
And you're too curious: fie!
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.
Or, after all, perhaps there's none:
Suppose there is no secret after all,
But only just my fun.
Today's a nipping day, a biting day;
In which one wants a shawl,
A veil, a cloak, and other wraps:
I cannot ope to every one who taps,
And let the draughts come whistling thro' my hall;
Come bounding and surrounding me,
Come buffeting, astounding me,
Nipping and clipping thro' my wraps and all.
I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows
His nose to Russian snows
To be pecked at by every wind that blows?
You would not peck? I thank you for good will,
Believe, but leave that truth untested still.
Spring's and expansive time: yet I don't trust
March with its peck of dust,
Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers,
Nor even May, whose flowers
One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.
Perhaps some languid summer day,
When drowsy birds sing less and less,
And golden fruit is ripening to excess,
If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud,
And the warm wind is neither still nor loud,
Perhaps my secret I may say,
Or you may guess.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Yellow Jacket
There is a cycle brigade that leaves bright and early every morning
I follow them through the rustic narrow strips of park
Along the scenic view before the march, of traffic
And commuter feet swallows up this pastoral symphony
And one solitary lark rises above clouds
Its song unheard beneath the din of hooting horns
And bicycle bells
I follow them further still, under the grand wellington arch
Passed the soldiers in full kit on early morning drill
Racing down lanes beneath an early morning breath of trees
Passed the changing of the guards
The flying flag above the palace
And then their journey home
Illuminations in the dark
One bright stream
A hundred yellow shining jackets
yvette smith march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Cold Wind Blows
the cold wind blows
one early morning
rushing through my skin
like abnormal flora
the unknown make me host
for gooseflesh i can't handle
but i quit fearing ghost
for they are just imagination
dream i think that can cause suffocation
the cold wind blows
it's natural
just as natural as i know
it's nearing December
so cold wind blows
but is it really the nearing month
that cause the cold wind blows?
poem by Shelomith Noarbe
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Outside The August Wind is Playing
Outside the August wind is playing
swinging branches up and down,
grabbing on flowers that are still standing
with fingers which are desiring
and I wait upon birds to appear again
after their around-the-world journey
while knobs are on the branches of fruit trees,
ready to unfold in blossoms
in early spring
but the cold is making its presence known
with ripe lying spread out in the early morning
while the winter season
is still doing its icy thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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