Mornings

When we rise in the early morning,
It's no time for grumpiness or scorning.
Rightfully so, it's a time to kiss and coo
And if it's cold, to draw next to you.

The screaming alarm, it's never ceasing
Wracking the nerves, and the mind creasing.
So, I turn it off after I rise
And wipe the sleep out from my eyes.

What is there to do after waking?
Kitchen cooking, frying, baking?
Or maybe time to take a bath,
Or in our sleepy minds, tells jokes and laugh.

We could sit on the porch and see the sun coming,
And in our minds hear the drum roll drumming.
With each new day, our bodies from the bed we lift
To experience the present (after all, it is a gift).