Early in the morning with warm blankets <br />wrapped so snugly round that no cold air <br />can find a way to reach my body bound <br />and mind, not so softly wrapped but free to roam <br />hypothesises on the days events not yet told <br />with some darkness lurking in unspoken thoughts <br />and regrets, born of a shamefulness of past events <br />that will not sleep and come to rest. <br /> <br />Emerging just a little from a cocooned existence <br />perchance a sweet scent is on the air <br />and I remember it is you, who is always there <br />at my side no matter what might happen <br />through the other presence of that impostor pride <br />and as I rise you shower me with such love <br />that sunbeams are made of, through a light <br />that most subtle shines and leaves no shadow <br />for my pride to hide.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/humility-8/
