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 juiceI know orange juice is the norm
But I also know your mind
So rather than stay true to form
I'll pour your favorite kindI 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 bestNot 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 styleI'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 meI 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.