Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Sleepy-Eyed Morning

Swirling, swirling mass of thoughts
All my dreaming, all for nought
Waking up to a voice that calls:
"Bacon, eggs, and toast for all"
Father's cooking, I'm still sleeping
Through my lids the light is seeping
Press my face into my pillow
I'm as dead as a faking armadillo
I groan again, I'm feeling contrary
My body screams for sanctuary.
Waking up is hard to do.

I rub my eyes and I stretch my toes
I curl under my quilt 'cuz those toes done froze
Aware of the day all around me
I'm sure that the day can live without me.
I squinch my eyes and I breath real slow
I wrinkle my brow and assess my woe.
Only a minute, I say in my head
Only a second, and I'll get out of bed.
Waking up is hard to do.

But suddenly, I hear, throughout the house
Fork against plate, spouse talking to spouse.
I hear mother talking, and father, he too,
And I toss away my quilt, the pretty one that's new.
I drink in the smell of eggs, bacon, and toast
That indeed is what I want the most.
I stumble through the hall, still half asleep
I stumble through the kitchen, having not made a peep.
Mama asks how I slept, I mumble, "Just fine"
As I stumble and tumble towards the breakfast plate; mine!
I plop down in my chair with some salt and a fork
Realizing it's quite possible, I look like a dork.
My hair is a mess, my eyes smudged with mascara
Yesterday's face on the next day will scare ya.
But my heart is delighted by the plate on the table
I eat it, devour it, as quick as I'm able.
I thank my dad and put my plate away
A delicious, warm breakfast is the way to start a day
Waking up ain't so hard to do.

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