In the Midnight Mist

As I was writing this poem, I had my grandson fill in the blank, but Grandma gives… not only did he give me that but the next line which I loved so much I made it my title too. Perhaps, I’m passing down poetry to the next generation. IN THE MIDNIGHT MIST some kids don’t hear morning birds bidding goodbye to the moon at noon they rise for their bacon and pancakes or tacos and burgers bidding goodbye to the morning sun all of out synch pay no attention to the olden days no rise and shine no switch on the back side spoiled and loved and spoiled hopefully their parents whip them into shape with their love…no belly aching after visiting the fortress of solitude dramatic, yes that’s what the eight year old calls his room here in my habitation, but when his brother is here he finds aggravation or vexation from Grandpa but Grandma gives kisses in the midnight mist according to a little birdie who woke up from his nest 7/1/2023