Friday, 15 June 2012


Good Morning.


Your amber eyes poking through the sheets.

Those sleepy, gentle drops,

look at me as if

for the first time,

with a sense of wonder.

With every morning, to this very day,

we wake up

and say,


Like we're meeting for the very

first time.

And before we embark onto our

daily chores,

we share our dreams.

For the first few moments

of our morning

we share the multitudes

of our bizarre minds.

Chuckling, holding,


And then you're up and

off into the kitchen,

to make us some tea.