Earlier this week I woke up in the middle of the night with a song in my head. This song:

I'm the morning in your morning
I'm the morning in your evening
I'm the morning in your silvery moon

It had a tune, too, but I don't recall the tune. I don't think it's a real song, just a pastiche of sentiments. No idea what it means. I'm the fresh part of your day? Or is “morning” also “mourning”? That would fit the state of my world for this week/month/year. 

Coleridge takes a nap and gets:

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

Right: I ain't Coleridge. I'm lucky I got anything. I also like “silvery moon.”