A Little Yawn
It starts with a little yawn,
then a stretch, both fore and aft.
Next the blankets start to move,
I just have to laugh.
She shuffles up from the bottom,
of the bed, where warm and snug,
she had slept the whole night through,
as snug as a bug in a rug.
But, comes the tock of six a.m.
her internal clock goes "Bong".
A morning ritual now begins,
softly, with a little yawn.
Her nose peeks out from beneath,
the rest of her soon follows.
Her head she rubs into my neck,
as I try to hide in the pillow.
It is no use, I'm now wide awake,
I climb out, into the world where I belong.
Just before she scrambles back beneath,
she gives out a little yawn.
For the contest; What makes you wake up each and every day
Sponsored by Ed Ebbs
Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2011
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