We sleep through the beginning of the day
Our hearts rest do sleep and love in slumber
My dearest wakes with the suns golden ray,
The day starts as a delicate number.
My love muses at the kitchen table
As breakfast is prepared to start the day,
My thoughts wander to my latest fable
As now I sit holding my breakfast tray.
But the day moves on and waits for no man
And soon the time comes when to bed we go
For weariness overcomes the best plan
And Cupid his arrows and bow does stow.
Love never slumbers as the body does rest
Sleep rejuvenates hearts to be their best.
witty with a lovely rhythm! ! ! ! I agree, after love is so good a little nap! ! ! ! Lovely poet.
day starts as a delicate number... Don't want to count days yet they keep adding. Nice sonnet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Paths that lead us through the windows face as the other side of sight inside the lake. Is what we see when they awake bright stars...iip