MORNING With rocks and things, A wish and other dreams, The sun, not yet up- I thought, What sort of dreams he's got. This morning now, Its 6 o'clock. The world is lost in mist, The island and the land, Only one bridge apart, With a desire, For the rocks and things, And all the far and distant dreams, All to unite- as one. We hold -on hold, And yet- not, These dreams, things, golden wings, Girls or boys with toys, First letters, steps, words, The gifts from God, All happy, some sad, With their desires to become, And take flight, Into the day, Into the sun, Past 6 o'clock.