In the morning I woke like a sloth in the fog.

We are living in a ‘one morning’ world; we get up one morning and many things have changed! Tomorrow morning, there will be another ‘one morning!

[T]he period between four and six in the morning is called the Brahmamuhurta, the Brahmic time, or divine period, and is a very sacred time to meditate. (140)

The next morning dawned bright and sweet, like ribbon candy.

Morning drew on apace. The air became more sharp and piercing, as its first dull hue: the death of night, rather than the birth of day: glimmered faintly in the sky. The objects which had...

To think I should have lived to be goodmorninged by Belladonna Took’s son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!

Trying to remember a dream from a decade ago is like trying to catch fog in a coffee filter. I could subsist on morning mist.

You are the morning smiles and the midnight whispers; how can I forget you without forgetting them.

Dorothy scratched her dark head, yawning wide, and white feathers floated out of her hair.

They know these mornings well and love them desperately because they cannot last – these people who know that nothing lasts.

Drink your coffee, it clears out the brain in the morning

New days should be greeted like new lovers and babies toddling along a table looking back to make sure we’re watching.

To live without purpose is like to wake up in the morning, walk out of your door into the street without destination

Sad, slow music in the small hours of the morning isn’t just sad and slow music. It’s a narration. And through the myriad of morning dew, we are the twinkling stars that fade with the...

Manhattan in the morning is a living stream of Purpose; everyone’s got a place to be and a problem on their mind. That doesn’t mean it’s and unfriendly place — just busy and preoccupied. Personally,...

Red FoxThe red fox crosses the iceintent on none of my business.It’s winter and slim pickings.I stand in the bushy cemetery,pretending to watch birds,but really watching the foxwho could care less.She pauses on the sheer...

Mine was the twilight and the morning. Mine was a world of rooftops and love songs.

some poems frothand foam and rise…out of my morning cup ofmist-sweetened coffee.

Morning came in through the blinds cutting everything into ribbons.

Isn’t it wonderful, that I can take care of everything?,” then that would be sufficient.

I tried to wear my shirt while it was still on the hanger. That’s just the kind of morning person I am with no coffee.

Good Morning

Lena’s hair was sticking out in about fifteen directions, and her eyes were all small and puffy from crying. So this was what girls looked like in the morning. I had never seen one, not...

Every sunny morning is a great fountain; we quaff ‘sweet hope’ from it.

Seven a.m. on the first day of summer vacation was, to her mind, a dangerous time to be awake. Even God had to be sleeping in.

The desert, when the sun comes up…I couldn’t tell where heaven stopped and the Earth began.

You have a clean slate every day you wake up. You have a chance every single morning to make that change and be the person you want to be. You just have to decide to...

The morning always has a way of creeping up on me and peeking in my bedroom windows. The sunrise is such a pervert.

I yell at yellow like I purr at pink. If they were more fluid, I’d pour meows in my morning coffee.

To wake up each morning is a miracle.

Mornings are like almost clean slates. I say almost clean because the residue of yesterdays is sometimes stuck on them.

Alarm clocks were going off in the city now. One after another, sometimes two or three together, they drove their small silver knives into the body of the great dream that sprawled naked on the...

…to celebrate by making love the first snow of winter.