Good Morning, Good Morning
I hear a little greeting
at least once every day.
“Good morning. Good morning,”
both friends and strangers say.
And when I’ve been awakened
and turn the TV on,
news folks have been saying it
now since the break of dawn.
How fitting the expression
(that the dawn is breaking).
Dawn sure breaks my restful sleep
as I lie there aching.. . .
Aching to go back to
my private land of dreams,
to burrow under blankets.
Instead, it always seems. . .
I’ve barely laid my head
upon my pillow when
my clock’s alarm starts buzzing.
I turn it off and then. . .
I quickly dress for work
with barely time to eat.
Dashing to my car, I hear
the birdies’ “Tweet, tweet, tweet.”
I know what they are saying
to all the other birds.
Those crazy birds are saying it
not even using words!
“Good morning. Good morning.”
And merrily the sun
beams down as I go speeding
to work again. What fun!
To bed, to rise, and early!
To do those things I should,
But I will not. . . and so my mornings
never will be good!
For Frank's "What Annoys you"
and now for PD's Contest on Poems written in the a.m.
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