it's sunday morning
i'm sitting at the table
you're still in bed
but i hear the alarm go
you'll be down soon.
i'm the morning person.
i've made you tea,
and myself some coffee
stirred in some honey
some toast
some jam
a few slices of fruit
the birds outside are
joyfully conversing
about their warm
restful evenings.
cars pass our home
and the sunlight
that reaches through
the window begs me
to stay in this infinite
paradise that is a life
with you, my darling
whoever you are
this figment of my
imagination
whom i dream of at the
earliest points of the
day, wishing and waiting
to spend a simple
sunday morning
with you.