Good Morning, Ma'am
Eggs Benedict warmed beneath a silver dome;
Fresh-squeezed juice in a crystal glass;
Crisp, white linen spread upon the cart;
A ‘good morning, ma’am’ -- this is first class.
Ah, room service. Would that it could be
My daily fare; with a touch of the phone pad,
A cheerful voice asking, ‘May I take your order?’
To hear this each day would make me so glad.
To lay back on a soft, plush pillow,
To savor a French croissant,
To linger over my espresso --
There is nothing else I want.
Copyright © deb radke | Year Posted 2011
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