In The Morning; What home means to me
I open my eyes in the morning, I see a bright face.
Her happy smile jumps around me, “Get up, get up!”.
My sister tugs my duvet off and giggles “Come on!”
My bed is warm and soft.
Next to me lies a kitten snuggled up with our young pup;
A pleasantly peaceful morning. Home. Safe.
I stumble downstairs, taking in the crisp air of a cold dawn.
Sploosh goes the cocoa, milk, and sugar;
Lifting my cup: the sweet liquid slides down my throat, gently scalding me.
I mosey over to the couch, pull out my laptop and begin to write.
How to describe this perfection?
My mother comes down and smiles, “Need help?”… I pause, divergent thoughts rush through my head. “No thanks.”
I’ve got this.
I see my father, and immediately a ridiculous joke tumbles off his lips tripping everyone it sees, including me.
I walk outside, tall flowers blooming around me.
Bending down to pick an herb I smell the rich scent of the earth, it dances in my nose, the sharp taste of mint envelops my mouth. Wandering down to the beach I breathe in the salty sea air.
What a wonderful life.