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THE BREAKFAST CROWD
 
It begins slightly before dawn...
Never mind that sleep divorced me
From the moment my weary bones
Slid beneath cool white-robed sheets.

First comes the racing down the maple tree.
Then the chattering slips of conversation
Only furry-tailed, wispy-eared squirrels
Are privy to in an early Spring frost.

All of this activity prompts every crow and
Blue-Jay for 20 miles to join in the scurry
With their beautiful (?) call to mates around...
Hurry, hurry! The feast is on!

Wondering why I ever wanted the feeders
So very close to the dining room window,
I smile as I pour myself a cup of steaming joe
And settle down to watch the breakfast crowd!
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By MissSharon

© 2018 MissSharon (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Smile (challenge has been closed)


This Poem is part of a Challenge: - Smile (challenge has been closed)


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