At the sound of seven bells,  the cobwebs clear.
Smell the bed, no it's not smelly.
It carries the warmth of the lovers departure.
Bed for today, has lost it's allure.
Another lovely day has dawned, for today alone she's dressed in sun.

The morning smells.
Bacon sizzling in the pan, prepared by ladies loyal man.
Oh so the lady dreams
Eggs ******* in to the fire.
Ready for a spot of flipping, after all, today is sunny side up.

She, that lady,staggers in a dream of just left sleep, shoves the kettle on.
Grabs her mug, cos it's yesterdays tomorrow.
Pours her coffee, made by fair hand filled with lonely sorrow.
Actually, another note on which to end.
The lady likes not bacon, but scrambled egg's another dream.
(c) LIVVI 07,42, 16/02/2014