full moon morning, jdbphoto2017
4 A.M.
It is too early to be stirring, the world is still asleep.
The sound is all still slumbering, the darkness is too deep.
No dayness stirs the nightness. No touch is reaching out.
No stirring and no blowing. Not a whisper. Not a shout.
When I wake before the world does, it seems the end of things
instead of the beginning, when the whole world sings.
Sun rises and the birds demand. The dogs whine for their feed.
All the world around me awakens to its need.
But for now, they are all sleeping. It is a lifeless world.
Its eyes and ears and mouth closed, around me densely curled.
The NaPoWriMo prompt today is to use alliteration. This is quiet alliteration, like the poem. Not too much. Just a touch!
I love your quiet poem, and the “touch” of alliteration in all the lines. For some reason, I was reminded of Wordsworth’s sonnet about being on Westminster Bright, and hearing the “mighty heart” of a city in sleep.
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No one ever objects to reminding someone of Wordsworth! Thanks, Dreamer.
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Deftly rhymed, marvelous rhythm and fine, fine alliteration. Aces on all fronts. (Bowing)
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I used to feel early morning really was the beginning. These days, i feel like I should definitely go back to bed before I wake up. Ah, how time changes everything. AND a good poem, too!
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” no stirring and no blowing. Not a whisper, not a shout” love the quietness of this line. Beautifully written.
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