these morning yawns are drawing on,
to wake up now
to sweet birdsong
a rare and scarce occasion
as the body ages
and the bones
become thin
fresh as a daisy has to pay the day's wages
before a trickle
of strength is let in,
the droopy eyes,
listless sighs,
the walking through treacle
of waking up time.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 11:30 AM UTC
these morning yawns are drawing on,
to wake up now
to sweet birdsong
a rare and scarce occasion
as the body ages
and the bones
become thin
fresh as a daisy has to pay the day's wages
before a trickle
of strength is let in,
the droopy eyes,
listless sighs,
the walking through treacle
of waking up time.
Request permission to use this poem