Before the sun crests the morning hill,
Before the bird’s song is full and shrill,
Before the day breaks, I feel the thrill…
The comfy warmth of skin and fur,
The house still quiet but I feel the lure.
Children and pets still fast asleep,
But my groggy brain is stuck on repeat.
The cold water runs, the beans are ground,
The pot is dripping, still no one’s around.
Slippers and cups, sugar and cream,
I shuffle around, still in a dream.
I pour two cups and set them aside,
I shake his shoulders so he won’t be denied.
He smiles at me and ruffles my hair,
Our morning ritual begins in our lair.
by: Kat de Falla