Sunday Morning Poem by John Weber

Pillowed blankets with cottons cool
Waking up festive next to you
Tip-toeing giddy like a fool
Caressing life while carving through

Pulling a shirt over my head
While keenly watching your calm face
Lying prone upon our plush bed
Vision the darkness won't erase

Duck down the hallway without sound
To the kitchen to summon food
Marveling at the grace I've found
Shedding repugnance from my mood

Clanking the pan while scrambling eggs
The seasons tickle my shrewd nose
Driving the rhythm through my legs
Pulsing with ardor to my toes

Those taps set the pace for my toil
Tilting spirit and prospect up
Your precious gifts shall never spoil
Blessings abound to fill my cup

Lifting my golden entrée out
Stacked on tomatoes with basil
Sharp aged cheddar and fresh bean sprout
Will spur those jewels to dazzle

Pad back down with treasure in hand
Newspaper tucked under my arm
Fluttering lashes find command
Signaling me with eager charm

What a prize to astound my sight!
Lilting words full of wellbeing
Perk my canal with pleasures bright
Our tender moment most freeing

As you sip upon orange juice
Your daughter bounds into the room
Such buoyant youth now on the loose
A gentle bud shed from your bloom

Even my dog cannot hold back
As he too longs to share our joy
His chunky tail gives me a whack
While he nudges you with his toy

My intrepid tribe from heaven
Huddles around your sacred flame
Hope we lounge well past eleven
And next Sunday shall be the same