Awake I rush to burn the toast
quick, jam and honey, soft-boiled eggs,
meanwhile the oven cooks the roast
he loves the taste of mutton legs.
Breakfast in bed, I say dear Dan
is wonderful, a touch of bliss
I'll gladly pamper my good man,
awake, the promise of his kiss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sarah, Sunday morning - nice to stir in your happy cookery of words... Dan obviously back from the pipeline... enjoy, aroha, Deana xx