The mornings are dark this time of year
but those friendly sounds each day I hear
kettle boiling, tea soon made
toast has popped up, where’s marmalade
Kitchen warmth around my back
now retired, no lunch to pack
a word out of fashion but which says it all
is Nice, yes Nice, it’s ten feet tall
So once again I’ll gently yawn
and thank the Lord that I was born.
Share this: