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Poem: 5:45 of the Morning Clock

Updated on June 5, 2013
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Five Forty Five

It's five fortyfive of the morning clock,

I'm falling into old clothes now ad hoc.

It's far too early why the hell am I up?

isn't the fact I'm awake enough?

I shake off resentment and shuffle down stairs,

holding off the days' worth of woes and cares.

The kettle boils as the mugs sit calm,

Gathering the breakfast things I balance'em on me arm.

The coffee steam rises under my nose,

sending a tingle from my head to my toes.

Two sips snuck as I'm creeping past doors,

A mouthful of toast leaves me hungry for more.

In I tip-toe and I'm looking to the bed,

where the love of my life lifts a sleep tussled head.

The smile that I get flicks that switch deep inside,

that turns on my happiness and takes me up high.

I'd make a million breakfasts in the cold mist of morning,

if met by that bright smile in day's early dawning.

Essential 5:45am survival gear

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    • Irell VL profile image

      Irell VL 4 years ago

      Your peom really paints a picture. I like that about poems. I really enjoyed this one. Great work.

    • Dan Barfield profile image
      Author

      Dan Barfield 4 years ago from Gloucestershire, England, UK

      Thanks for the comment :) ... And yes I really was up at that time... By choice.

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