Days succeed each other in a river of time.
What day is it?
My heart wakes up to sunshine
And calls of turtledoves;
My eyes open to swaths of gold
Draped on the curtains in carefree ribbons;
My body stretches of its own volition.
Muscles awake,
Skin reaches for coolness
While hands and limbs explore an empty space,
Running along the sheets,
Missing you.
Then focus in sleep-laden eyes
Fails, as usual, to locate glasses and a clock.
In a hairbreadth of time,
No, a hair breath,
I slip into willful existence,
Into the unknown,
Into possibilities of either/or,
Life changing decisions
Or inactions.
Comment tu fais ca?
Tu fais fascinant les activités banales, avec la poésie scintillante.
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Merci bien. Ton enthusiasme me surprend toujours un peu mais je le recois avec gratitude et beaucoup de joie.
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Ah yes, the blissful waking consciousness of morn. My favourite time of day.
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What’s not to like, right?
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Well, there is the small issue of three cats who don’t seem to appreciate long human sleep-ins. FEED ME!!!!
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syrupy! Slow and sweet! love it..
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I like to take my time and do it right….(Mr. Rogers) Thanks Suz..
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My spidey sense tells me that we haven’t seen the last of this theme.-)
rjb
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Tell spidey that only time will tell. Laughing.
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