In an instant I've awoken, I don’t really see the sky
I know rain falls from it on the shingles time to time
Little tinny voices are my alarm set on repeat
And it makes me feel so sorry not to wake up on some
Coriander washed London street
Still the smell, our Petrichor perfume, sitting in the air
Reminds me of our mornings, taking in a winter dare

Where I’d not rise easy to rainfall in the bleak misty dawn
Listening instead, your breath against the pillow I now indent upon