The Show
The Show
By Shawn H. Hall
She slowly wakes as roosters crow
While morning breezes gently blow.
The sounds of morning fill the air
As backlit, pastel clouds now glow.
A blur of fur and bed-head hair
Soon greet the day with joy to spare,
Though half an empty bed belies
The happiness that once was there.
But each new day greets time that flies
As children's noises fill the skies.
The dawn again has joined the flow
Of life's insistent mirthful cries.
And so our daytime's habits grow:
We dress for work and off we go.
But only friends and loved ones know
We're quite convincing with our show.
Yes, quite convincing with our show.
Copyright © Shawn Hall | Year Posted 2020
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