I'd like to cook you breakfast, love
If that's alright with you
I'll make you some scrambled eggs and toast
With a glass of cranberry juice
I know orange juice is the norm
But I also know your mind
So rather than stay true to form
I'll pour your favorite kind
I know you're still sleeping though
And I'd hate to interrupt your angelic rest
But I'd like to surprise you when you wake up, so
I will do my best
Not to disturb you while you nap
And I'll cook quietly to see you smile
I know your favorite is a chicken caesar wrap
But that's not the breakfast style
I'll bring it to you on a tray in bed
And I'll pause to grin at what I see
I'll realize how lucky I am before I kiss your forehead
To rouse the breathtaking girl in front of me
I made you breakfast in bed my love
I bet you think I'm sucking up but it's not what it seems
I just thought, while your mind wandered places far off and above
I could do something special for the girl of my dreams
YOU ARE READING
Time Alone
PoésieWhy do I write? Half to save my life, half in an effort to explain what makes life ugly, difficult, dreadful, and indescribably worthwhile. (Of course it's about a girl) This is what I learn in my time alone.
