Mornings
I wake to the sounds of birds,
That rest in gutters outside my window.
I lay annoyed.
Sun's rays glisten through the curtains.
The smell of freshly cooked toast drifts in,
And I know morning has arrived again.
I exit my comfortable pit, open the curtains,
Like water bursting it's dam, light floods in.
Eyes blurred,
Adjust to see the world,
The smell of freshly burnt toast fills the air,
The smoke detector sounds again.
I trudge towards the kitchen,
See my loved one scraping black bits of toast into bin,
I stand in lazy trousers,
Hug my loved one, smiling.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee, black, no sugar.
Morning's post lies untouched again.
I smile and look about my home, my castle.
Another day begins