Cottage Morn Poem by jeff barth

She rolls over and ask for more slumber as I head for coffee and the mornin paper.

Sometimes sweetness takes longer to rise and I watch her burrow into her pillow,
shoveling deeper into the comfortable, blue blanket we both love to fight over.

A precious, well spent hour passes, I drank the coffee and read the paper as she slipped in and out of dream and the lighting of morn.

She announced herself to me in a series of yawns that call for a kiss and fresh coffee.

The site of her there made me linger as she blinked her hello at the day and I watched her rise in a familiar way we choose to say hello to the brand new cottage morn.