I Like Mornings Poem by Michael Garrett

I like the mornings.
Some folks prefer the night.
With its allure of satisfied vices
and shadows groaning.
Mistress like, nuzzling our neck
illuminating only our desires and
Beastly ways.
The night masks us
and undresses in full view of
All gawkers.
The morning leisurely reveals herself,
As if in a slow reverse striptease.
Button by button,
deliberate and enticing.
Like a bride in the midst of
a thunderous wedding.
She finds her lover in a soundless glance
when all distractions are silenced
and the two pair of eyes meet
to share that one precious
Moment.

In the morning it is good enough to be alone.

The night will devour the lonely.