Tuesday, July 27, 2010

With apologies to real poets...

the whir of the fan, beep of my alarm;
ignoring them both;
i hear a tiptoe coming towards me;
i keep my eyes closed, to see what happens next;
will it be a tickle?
will it be a pinch?
will i be jumped upon?
no.
i feel a soft bunny rabbit being tucked into my covers;
i feel a small hand patting its ears onto my face;
and i hear a tiptoe leaving my room.

mornings at my house. sweet. gentle. love.

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