The morning saunters, free-lance, through your dreams
and sketches languid shadows on the ceiling,
as duvet-clouds are set aside, revealing
a day of frosted juice and soft icecreams.
A feline stretch and satisfaction gleams
in slitted eyes. Awake… and you are feeling
like a princess, courtiers all kneeling,
presenting cushioned life in sunlit themes.
But self-indulgent moments are so rare
that guilt attempts to prosecute for stealing
this present, time. There’s no deserving pleasure.
Be thankful while the Fates agree to share
a day of rest; no gift is more appealing.
Unwrap it slowly, savour at your leisure.