Sunday Morning
The morning comes, dawning
whitely, and I arise once more --
mind meandering, sleepily yawning,
sunlight creeping through the door.
My cat demands his morning meal
while distant church bells faintly peal
and traffic sounds invade the room.
Coffee briskly brews; my cat begins to groom.
I grab a glass of breakfast juice -- minutes pass
as I drink it down. I get the paper from the grass,
brush off the dew, read the news,
the comic strips and op-ed views.
My coffee cools. Dumb opinions heat me up.
To calm myself, I re-warm my now too-cold cup,
then turn on music's wordless charmng psalm:
No rapping please -- just this sweet, melodic balm.
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