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Awakened by the warmth of the morning sunlight
kissing my cheek;  
I stretch and pull the covers over my mussed head,
not wanting to peek.  
In the midst of the early morning chaos, I grope
for the frigid floor;  
stumbling to catch my balance, I reach for the
unopened door.  
The sound of laughter and excitement fill my
country home;  
realizing others are present, knowing I’m not alone.  
A warm hug greets my listless lazy frame,  
in my country home so lively, loving, and tame.  
The aroma of bacon sizzling on the old wood stove,  
lingers in the musty air like that of a dried spice clove.  
The dog waits at the back screen door for scraps 
to be thrown,
waiting patiently while gnawing on his old dug-up bone.  
A crowd of hungry mouths now filter through the dome, 
like a clattering freight train in my country home.  

Copyright © 2003 By Caryl S. Muzzey

Sixth Place Winner ~ "NA’s” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ebb
Feb. 23, 2016

This poem represents my childhood living with my grandparents on their farm.  This is my most memorable time in my young life and four years old houses the most unforgettably exciting recollections.  This was probable on a Sunday or when we had work hands staying for breakfast.  The children were always fed last.

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