General

Golden threads of morning light transform my night dreaming into an ambient optimism.

General

Morning arrives as a mother's gentle hand, inviting the dreams of night to enter the day.

General

The halo of the horizon arrives with golden grace.

General

Golden rays of the morntide come as invitations to the day.

General

The morning comes as if even the clouds have inner grins.

General

In morning there is more joy in the part of me that peeks through the windows of my eyes. In the morning there is more love awaiting a chance to jump into the air in that silent crackle we sense with our soul. In the morning there is more deep sweetness that resonates within and finds a way to express this energy that is me.

General

In the wash of the new light, your face takes on the appearance of an old photograph, one of nostalgia, so beautiful. I watch as it brings your skin into focus, not yet animated with the warmth of who you are, for you are still in the land of dreams. And since there is no better thing to do but to bring my body so close that our hearts synchronise, I'll hug you till you wake, when the light is so strong that you come into the present with me, eyes open.

General

The curtains add an orange glow to the morning light, every morning a perfect sunrise. It reminds Haydon of of the times he slept in a beach hut, watching the ocean emerge under the golden shimmer. For a moment his mind conjures the rhythmic waves, soft on the sandy shore and feels his heart beat to the same slow pace. He breaths in deeply. A new day has begun. He reaches his had out to the fabric, noticing how up close the light pours through every open space between fibres, no different from how it once came through the beach-hut walls, illuminating like brilliant fire-flies each dawn. The material is warm beneath his fingers, and when the sun floods the room, painting the colours anew, he feels a little of those golden rays soak into his skin.