a weekend morning call

 why care about the hair, the look, the style,

a weekend unrushed in its laziness fertile,

to forget all else... once in a while,

to invest in self and nobody else real worthwhile.

the taste buds wanting something different to eat,

and thus, into the kitchen to get busy with the treat,

eggs, flour, milk, oil and and...all together to beat,

pancakes!...it shall be, the beginning of a Sunday morning, deliciously sweet!

 the aroma of the pancakes the spirit did lift,

through the kitchen made its way, real swift,

and, standing over that stove, my mind began to drift,

one more treat i decided myself to gift.

pancakes on a plate, sweet goodies in little dishes on the side,

down the passageway toward my bedroom to stride,

a dishevelled bed a welcoming site, as i place the tray on the bedside,

naked to strip and between the cool sheets to glide.

every window every sliding door allowing the breeze and morning to enter,

to all my Sunday morning desires did tender,

and thus, a peace most luxurious in its presence did render,

a total surrender to the mornings splendour.

RB.