Breakfast in Bed

It was a day drenched in sunlight,

as I woke late

and decided to stay in bed and listen.

I listened to my husband’s gentle feet in the kitchen.

I could hear the tea boil,

as was tradition after a night like we had,

full of drink and staying up much later than we like.

I could hear the sweet crackle of bread,

as my husband preferred to toast it on the stove.

The smells of last night were beginning to lessen,

and the smells of today made me happy

for the simple, human moments.

And then I heard it, the porcelain tray,

tapping the marble counter,

and I knew that breakfast was about to served.


And I would soon see those charming blue birds,

as I cleaned the toast from the tray,

and kissed my husband good morning.

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