Heart, crosses and almond eyes stares
Tis time for breakfast and kind finger cares
Buttercups, roses and counting down sleeps
for when special meets special, life turns sweet.
Tomorrow we meet by the old green clock
Let’s lounge poetry, sink in softness spots
and toss verses medley high in her wok
as time has gifted to us, grand key to unlock
Delicious, nutritious, in the sky's blue haze
There’ll be break flesh to drink, soothing throat lies in wait
yes we know and just think what a curious fate,
as the sun needs to leave and the moon comes aglow
it is time's own reprieve, in the dark it will grow.
I will ask for the usual, it is bacon and eggs
though intrigue has me puzzled, I'm thinking of legs,
and the valley of shadows, where the brook's silence springs
to the grass of green meadows as it sprinkles on things.
Let thy yolk pass my lips and slide down in the gullet
to be followed so soon by the unruly mullet.
There are acids, ferments and there's alkaline brew
wholly tacit sweet scents and a topping of dew.
I shall ask for a voucher to a breakfast in bed
nothing more need be written nothing further be said.
Voucher or venture there be nutting to gain
For breakfast in bed with you sir is insane !
I could write it now … how it would then seem to be
H. has got his head stuck way up in my tree
and what would then happen to those bacon and eggs
they’d be dripping and sliding all over splayed legs
of a modest imbibe from mouth and then down
of the brewing of yolk I most certainly frown,
as for chemically bubbling to arise from descent
please take your marching orders..
but tip my time as well spent..