“Morning – A poem for Annabel” by Margaret Brazzale

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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!


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