Sunday morning ,
in the bed still snoring ,
to me ,
sleeping
is never boring .
bed and breakfast ,
i always get up the last .
drowsy eyes ,
as if a sleeping spell has been cast ,
regretting sleep is now the past .
haven made blueberry pancakes ,
getting me full is all that takes .
finger food
but I 'm to lazy to make ,
I guess I will have to ask mother to bake.
YOU ARE READING
Random poems
Poetrypoems have always sprung out from pure emotions , and I guess that is the closest thing to knowing ones mind better .
