“Morning – A poem for Annabel” by Margaret Brazzale

Leave a comment

 

 

 

Tick goes the clock and then it tocks,

My feet are warm in fluffy bed socks.

 

Slippered feet whisper across the floor

There’s a soft click as mum opens the door.

 

I roll myself over and wake in a wink

As teddy gives me a one eyed blink

 

I know that the best is yet to come –

The smell of toast and a rumble in my ‘tum.’

 

Steaming bowls of porridge will be ready to eat

Oh! I do hope I won’t have to find Grannies’ teeth!

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s