Waiting For The Morning
by Mahdy Y. Khaiyat

When the night oversleeps
I swill from the well of poetry;
I strengthen my eyelids
With the balm of metaphors,
Harden my muscles
With the power of words,
Caress my senses
With the music of rhythms.


When the morning comes
In full regalia
I cover the well,
Place my head on the pillow,
And dream the night will not
Come too soon.