MY LUCKY DAY
The slow sun rises,
Shines brightly through the window pane,
Reflects rosy hue on the grey bedroom walls.
The sparrow catches the worm,
Watches and eats it raw,
And from the straw, drinks the morning dew!
The dove coos uncontrollably loud,
Feeds the nestlings whose heads are never still,
As the nearby trees, become alive with moths.
The flower garden springs to life,
Roses waft their fragrance in the breeze,
Butterflies flaps and bees buzz.
It is my forty fifth birthday,
My lucky day,
And what a ruptured dream!