Phrase Writers Group

One of my early songs. Presented here as a poem.

Written in the days of milkmen and early morning milk deliveries

MY SPECIAL TIME

When I awake in the early morn
And stretch right out for my first yawn
I hear the birds chorus the dawn
Then turn to look at you

My hair as usual stands up straight
My inbuilt alarm has gone off late
While you serenely look just great
And open your eyes on cue

Morning is my Special Time
You look like a million dollars
I, like a dime
And yet our love is like your loveliness
Remaining in its prime

I rise to draw the curtains wide
As the sun is trying to get inside
And forces me my eyes to hide
To have you to itself

I go to make the pot of tea
Wondering why it’s always me
And how many teabags, two or three
Stored upon which shelf

Morning is my Special Time
You look like a million dollars
I, like a dime
And yet our love is like your loveliness
Remaining in its prime

The birds have got the cream again
But the bottle’s filled by early rain
And a bird’s telltale white stain
Well things can’t get much worse

I find the kitchen full of steam
With you wondering where the milk has been
While hoping it’s all a bad dream
And not a daily curse

Morning is my Special Time
You look like a million dollars
I, like a dime
And yet our love is like your loveliness
Remaining in its prime

Well sanity at last returns to our Special Time of day
Really one just lives and learns
That’s all I have to say?
That’s all I have to say