The Golden Waking: A Morning Ode

Behold the East, where rosy Dawn awakes,
And through the casement, golden glory breaks;
Upon the pillow rests thy dreaming head,
While amber light adorns our quiet bed.

Thou slumberest still, in silence soft and deep,
Within the velvet castle of thy sleep;
Thy breath, a rhythm constant as the tide,
By which my anchored heart shall e’er abide.

Awake, fair soul! The sun begins to climb,
To mark the sweet beginning of our time;
The fragrant morning offers up its prize,
But pales before the brilliance of thine eyes.

Come, greet the day with promises anew,
For all the world seems fresh and washed in dew;
Good morning, love, my solace and my light,
Who turns to day the shadows of the night.

Drawing inspiration from the Romantic era, particularly the sensory richness of Keats, this piece transcends a simple greeting. It frames the morning not merely as a time of day, but as a renewal of the spirit. The imagery focuses on the contrast between the stillness of sleep and the inevitable, joyous rise of the sun, mirroring the awakening of affection that occurs each morning.
Écrit par Jack G. de poemopedia.com

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