Thursday Mornings
She watches
Through barely open eyes
As I begin my day
She whispers softly
How she loves my routine
And I shake my head
Knowing it is not hers
And it’s really my OCD
That entertains her
Soon she is lost again
Between day break
And her cute little snores
While I make her
My unexperienced coffee
I don’t drink the stuff
Never have
But still she accepts my instant tar water offering
Secretly hoping
The creamer
Can make her caffeine wake up tolerable
But first
Before she can sip
Flashing me her beautiful
Good morning smile
I must set her off in annoyance
It is me
It is what I do
She knows it’s coming
Yet forgets every time
I ready the pillow
From a distance
And toss
Who needs an alarm clock
When you have her vocal displeasure
That I eventually soothe with my
Good morning kiss
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