Sunshine ghosts in on waves of tumbling dust
To press soft morning kisses to freckled cheeks,
As brown curls fall over nightmare hushed lids
Which hide blue-eyed dreams from the sunrise.
Guitar-string calloused hands push away morning lover’s lust
To accept a cotton soft embrace that has been long neglected.
Not even freshly brewed Folgers could move the sluggish form from amid
The sheets that are so desperate to cling to midnight lies.
Sounds of a new day bounce through open windows noone can be fussed
To shut, as the bed beckons them to take a peek
At the sleep that has evaded them and to rid
Themselves of the need to meander outside to see the sunrise.
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