The sun just touched the morning;
The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.
-![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28zSbJPeoJroOl0WR3aUXnNz66A84v0KKNadno3_-7-NApocqr9otD8BJ2Jy5GEn8N4MbWhqSBGrNEpgdEN684FGkW2ohhWv0OGrnp48W9PGhBy2TiRtGFj4dkyV4bpzZv2GvR3WdC6o/s400/C+014.jpg)
She felt herself supremer, --
A raised, ethereal thing;
Henceforth for her what holiday!
Meanwhile, her wheeling king
-
Trailed slow along the orchards
His haughty, spangled hems,
Leaving a new necessity,
The want of diadems!
-![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAa4sOah1z5WVTfZ4FTnsDYe6LcGaeMn30ykdf62e4GtLRZKE5l7zq6-ufvgYfcfddHKEzV9gl5rZXnVua7sWt0N0nhw52YkVQca2irae9a1g87UjUJGWSEuWNOFAfintxuLzGxs7bKM/s400/C+022.jpg)
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The morning fluttered, staggered,
Felt feebly for her crown, --
Her unanointed forehead
Henceforth her only one.
~ Emily Dicksinon
Photos: Myrtle Beach, SC 2010
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