Sunday Morning

[TheFifthElement]

Echoes of bacon,
coffee still warm in the pot.
Sleepy: beds unmade.
Grass overgrown, pray for rain
and sweet silence: peaceful day.

[symphony]

What a fresh overview! So fresh that i can smell ur morning from here in southeast asia, though it's already a mauve evening down here.

[firefangled]

Echoes of bacon,
coffee still warm in the pot.
Sleepy: beds unmade.
Grass overgrown, pray for rain
and sweet silence: peaceful day.

Now you have convinced me not to mow the grass. It will just grow again.

Thanks you for this wonderful short poem, Fifth.

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks symphony, it's nice to see you around! :)

And firefangled, mission accomplished! There are always better things to do than mow the grass. Thanks for your kind comments :)

[goldenrod]

Ah for the joys of a yester-year, alas! Love the bed and grass allusions!

"For breakfast,
I now eat the raw,
untainted fruit
of the lemon tree.

Somewhat sour?
I do agree...!

But it wakes me up,
with "puckish" glee.
Which was never the case,
with hot coffee!

goldenrod.

[TheFifthElement]

Thanks goldenrod - I'm not a coffee lover either really (it makes me feel sick!) but the smell of it...mmm!

[PrinceMyshkin]

Echoes of bacon,
coffee still warm in the pot.
Sleepy: beds unmade.
Grass overgrown, pray for rain
and sweet silence: peaceful day.

This would be a taunting enough poem even if one did not know you from your longer, more wonderfully fleshed-out poems, but having relished those others, this comes like a wave over her shoulders from a woman who is shortly going to return for a longer visit...

[symphony]

How can one not love coffee?!