The Cheshire Cat Of Bastion Poem by James S Newcomb Lang

It's O' so very early, but the Sergeant Major said
At Zero 6 each morning I must leave my cosy bed
I'm not an early bird, so I think it's fair to say
That I'm not really conscious until later in the day

But dutifully I rise, however not that fast
As a savour each and every moment up until the last
I stagger to the shower, that makes me feel anew
Then it's off to the cookhouse for a piece of toast or two

I start to feel more normal as the coffee filters in
Then I'm ready for my working day to earnestly begin
As the morning sallies forth, I start to pick up pace
And once more a smile becomes a feature of my face

By midmorning I'm a dervish and fully up to speed
Name it and it's done, anything you need
By lunch I'm in full swing, but my energies are low
So it's back to the cookhouse for some sustenance I go

Refuelled I feel much better, but balance up the gain
By taking just a little nap to alleviate the strain
After just an hour, two at the very most
I resume my daily tasks at my usual duty post

Eager as a beaver I soldier on elated
Knowing that I've done my best and cannot be berated
The afternoon soon passes, helped by my little rest
So who could begrudge my me time, if I'm to do my best

By six or seven I'm weary and ready to close the door
As it's almost time for me to return to the bed that I adore
But first there is the cookhouse to replenish my reserve
Before I return to my sanctuary and the sleep that I deserve