Sunday Morning

 

Together every morning they make the bed

Laying the warm heather grey duvet on top

Smiling together like they were newlywed

Their love rich and full, the room just a backdrop

Breakfast follows, chopped fruit, fresh flavor

Soft glances and blueberries in a bowl

The always routine, but the love does not waiver

First she saved him, everyday he made her whole

She was his shining sun, he was her cloudless moon

In a full crowded room she was the only one he saw

No one to compare, he was her silver spoon

They fell in love everyday, lost in awe

Always growing, changing, never storming

Their love, sweet love, was a Sunday Morning

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world

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