This is a little different than what I’ve written before, but as always, tell me what you think.
<i>A Common Morning</i>
My fair love yawned, inquired me for the time.
“Tis only ten o’ clock, my dear. Repose,
And be entwined and peaceful. Let the chime
Of our alarm become tired, while we doze.”
The drowsy wakefulness of the late morn
Soon moved us to kitchen cabinet.
Fresh scents of breakfast cheerfulness were borne
On the subtle indoor drafts. A spirit,
Different in type but likewise subtle,
Was felt to animate our tender games,
And render them meaningful and gentle,
And justify our small, innocent aims.
Free again! Anchored to this lusty flesh,
The thought floats blithely, and stays ever fresh.