Morning Poem by Franz Velasco

I woke up on my bed
And I could not stand up
Nor can I raise my head
Waded my hands through pillows, I took another nap

As I attempt to sleep
I feel a gentle warmth
Guessing it's the luminous rays
Brought by the awakening sun

My eyes, closed, face, buried
But I see as I hear
Noise that I eerily crave
Birds from a single branch with melodious chatter

The noise then whispered
'It's my morning my dear, time to wake up'
It was my sun, my song bird, my love
With gentle warmth coming from her touch.