Spring Mornings

Is there anything so precious as early morning's light?

To sit alone with thoughts and a pastry, no soul in sight?

Insite seems to flow unbidden then,

Your mouth fills with what do you thinks and do ya kens?

The silence that surrounds you is a warm

Comforting reprieve from the racuous swarm

Constantly buzzing around your head, never

Stopping to even consider whether

or not it's worth while to nap in the grass.

But, alas, there always seems to be another class.